Someday You'll See the Stars
by Miss Anne Thropy
Summary: AU: Harry's last stand with Voldermort was a success and he is now trying to live a normal life. But complications arise in the shapes of a returned Godfather,damaged housemates and boyfriends have Harry learning to deal. Again.
1. Dulce Decorum Est

Disclaimer-JKR/Bloomsbury/WB own the rights, I just play with the characters for my own and other's amusment.

Notes:Notes: This is a pretty experimental fic and even though there will be romance and all that goes along with it, it will deal with the aftermath of war and people learning to live again after such fucked up events.

Someday You'll See The Stars.

"_Cos all of the stars are fading away_

_Try not to worry, you'll see them someday_

_Take what you need and be on your way_

_And stop crying your hear out."-Oasis_

_Chapter 1-Dulce Decorum Est_

Harry walked carefully through the run down mansion that had once been the proud Malfoy Manor. He wanted to rush into the library and destroy the last of the Horcruxes that Draco had explained would be there, hidden behind a wooden panel guarded by a suit of armour that would cut off your head if you didn't know the exact pattern of the marble tiles to walk on. He wanted to lift the gloom that had fallen over his world so desperately that he was physically itching to get it and finish it completely.

It wasn't going to be as easy as his mind was making it out to be. After all, it was more or less expected that he had to fight Voldermort and bring him down by his own hands. The horcruxes were the first step in doing so, but he wasn't willing to bet that Voldermort would simply keel over once the last piece of his soul was destroyed. A battle was waiting. His friends and allies were waiting. It felt as if the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation and he was dawdling.

He was tempted. Sorely tempted, but he didn't want to make a rash decision. Not when he knew all too well how dear of a cost he would pay if he did. He already had lost Sirius due to his rash stupidity, he wasn't going to fuck up ending the war simply because he couldn't wait.

Harry also knew, although he wouldn't voice it, that he wasn't about to let the patiently gentle man outside down. Remus already had to suffer so much in his life that Harry was damned if he was going to add to that. He wanted to add something else to his life and pain wasn't going to be it. He had to smile a bit tightly as he wondered if Remus would finally put down his objections and let him in. He had seen what happened with Tonks and wasn't really holding his breath for it, but he was going to try.

Just like he was going to try and not get himself killed off by doing something stupid.

He almost didn't keep the resolution. Despite Draco's map and his explicit instructions, he was still unable to find the hidden chamber until he had tried seven times and his patience had been shredded to its finest ends. And even then, he had to steel himself to finally take the steps required to not be decapitated by the scythe the black armour held in its gauntlet.

By the time he had reached the bloody horcrux, laid out in what was supposed to be a casually careless gesture on a dusty table, he was dripping cold sweat and felt an overwhelming bone-crushing weariness sweep over him where he stood. It was only after closing his eyes and reminding himself that Remus was outside waiting for him that he finally mustered up his reserves and destroyed the fragile box that held the last piece of Voldermort's soul.

He almost didn't make it out in time when the sounds of battle exploded outside. The backlash of the horcrux had caught him unaware and had hurled him backwards. He remembered his back thudding painfully against the armour and the loud din it created when it smashed against the wooden panel and how he rolled onto a soft, plush carpet.

He had only a few seconds to wonder about that as he quickly recovered and got to his feet. He would have forgotten the incident if it hadn't been for the pitiful whispering voice that sighed out his name.

He would have stopped, but the cries of the battle and the fury of Voldermort reminded him that he still had his duties to perform.

"-saw him fall over here...keep on looking through all of the bodies until you find him.." The voices were what brought him out of unconsciousness. His eyes flickered futilely for a few moments before he finally was able to open them and see a sky that was orange rather than grey or midnight black.

Remus blinked up at what he assumed was the night sky. He wasn't sure if it was due to the bright orange tinge it reflected back at the watcher. Liquid dripped down into his eye then and he had to blink to keep it from going into his eye. Reaching up, he wiped it away and frowned at the tacky residue it left on his fingers. Blood. Of course it would be blood. He wasn't in the middle of a battle for nothing.

The battle!

He sat up and tried to get to his feet, but as soon as he even put the slightest bit of pressure on his legs, he collapsed back down on what he knew to be something other than ground. He chose to ignore the feeling of plasticized and unmoveable flesh underneath him and looked up at the sky.

He didn't hear anything that would signal that the fight was still going on or which side had won. The only sounds that reached his ears were the crackling and popping of wood burning and the far off yells of others searching for specific dead and the living that still lay on those blood-spattered fields.

Remus had only a brief time to register the fact that for all intents and purposes, he was helpless until someone stumbled upon him. And that could possibly be for days if he was right about the amount of carnage that had taken place.

Wincing at the possibility of that happening, he forced himself to sit up despite the pain that was flooding through him. He could see shapes in the distance and tried waving, but no one saw his attempts to get their attention. Sighing, he looked around for his wand and saw that it was lying about five feet away. Resigned, he forced himself to crawl over there, pushing the fact that he was more or less dragging himself to it out of his mind. Humiliation had no place when it came to fighting for survival.

He had to keep telling himself that when Harry and Bill Weasley came to his aid and could barely hide the horrified looks on their faces as they cast several spells on him. Normally, he would have closed his eyes and tried to ignore them. Right now, he was too tired with the effort of getting help and the pain of his injuries to care. Or to even keep awake long enough to talk to them. Not that it mattered, since if Harry was alive and among the ones combing the battle fields, that was a sure sign that Voldermort was gone and life could be rebuilt.

Harry sat outside the tent that had been set up as a temporary field hospital smoking a fag from a packet he had filched from one of the dead bodies on the field. It wasn't as if the woman needed them. Especially not when her neck had been slashed so deeply that her spine glinted dully in the orange light from the gaping wound.

He shuddered and took a deep drag, enjoying the burn of the nicotine as the smoke went down into his lungs. He had managed to stop coughing after the second one and was now smoking like a pro. He felt slightly ashamed that he had started smoking, but he figured it was better than getting drunk. It was easier to hide the guilt, since he knew that he wouldn't have picked up the packet if he had found Remus earlier.

Harry spat on the ground and shook his head as he tried to clear the memory of Remus lying on top of corpses, his lower body twisted and mangled so badly that it was hard to recall he had stood beside him not even an hour before. Bill had been sympathetic when he had retched right outside the tent. He couldn't bring himself to go in and see him, not until he was sure that he was going to be completely healed. He knew he wasn't being fair and that he was being childish, but he couldn't make himself go.

He couldn't face the guilt that would surely sweep over him if he had to look at those gentle amber eyes and only see warmth and graciousness. Not when he wouldn't know for sure if it was temporary or not.

And if it was...he shut his thoughts of with a mental click. He was not going to think about that. Not now. Not ever. Remus was going to be fine and...

"Fuck." he muttered as he wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist, the only part of his body, it seemed, that was not blood-splattered. He should have gone and cleaned up when people were dragging him to do so, but he couldn't stand the idea of being feted and overwhelmed by well-wishers high on the euphoria of finally being able to take a breath without the spectre of Voldermort hovering above them.

Besides, he still hadn't gone back to the Manor to find out who or what had called out his name...

"Shit!"

He rushed off, hurling the fag to the ground so hard that it bounced a few times before finally coming to rest in a puddle of blood where it lay, the orange tip glowing like a malevolent eye for several seconds before it finally fizzled out in the blood.

He didn't have the trepidation or the weight on his shoulders that he had the first time he had walked there. This time, he literally sprinted through what was now undoubtedly a ruin. Briefly he wondered whether Draco would mourn the loss of his house. The thought was banished when he recalled that Draco had other things to worry about at that point. Like hoping that the healers would be able to restore his eyes, which had been melted by a particularly nasty curse that one of the LeStranges had thrown out.

Shuddering despite himself, Harry resolutely blocked out the memory of that event and skidded into the once elegant library that was nothing more than rubble and charred books. It was so bad that for the first few minutes, he couldn't tell where the hole he had rushed out of was. All of the panels had holes in them and the rubbish was covering the armour, the only reliable clue he had.

He snorted in anger at the predicament and spent ten minutes either kicking or blasting debris and dodging the occasional ricochets when he finally found the right entrance. Logically, there was no point in him doing all of that. After all, he might have just imagined the voice. He had been pretty nervous. He might as well just go and clean the blood and have a drink. He didn't listen to the voice and simply kept on destroying more things, since he knew that part of him needed the release. He was sure that after everything calmed down, he would never be fully able to vent his anger, his anguish, his grief. So it was actually a big surprise for him to actually find the exact location. He had nearly forgotten about it and he found it only because he had tripped over the staff of the scythe after dodging a piece of what had once been an ornately carved armrest and landed on that soft, if somewhat dusty carpet again.

He sneezed a few times as the dust he had inadvertently kicked up and waited until it had settled down before raising his wand and casting lumos.

He found himself inside a chamber that despite the heavy and lush furnishings, had the distinct feel of being the source of deep pain and dark acts. He moved around, wincing at the grotesque carvings on the walls and occasionally looking away at some of them when he finally found what looked like a coffin lying in the far corner of that chamber of horrors. It was closed and there was a small puddle of dried something beside it. Something that despite the light of his wand, he couldn't make out.

For a split second, his steps faltered and he was very close to simply running out and chalking the whole experience to nerves before the battle.

In fact, he had just turned to go when the voice called out again, this time stronger than that breathy whisper he had first heard. Swallowing thickly, he crept to the coffin. After several minutes struggling with the lid, he pushed it off and looked inside.

Only to look away again as his stomach roiled and he was once again on his knees vomiting up everything that he hadn't brought up the first time.


	2. When There's Nothing Left to Burn

_Disclaimers- Don't own, Don't sue. Can't get blood from a turnip and all that.  
Notes: As stated before, this is a pretty adult-natured fic. I have tried to portray the aftermath of war as realistically as possible and yes, that sometimes isn't sunshine and roses. Many thanks to all that have read and review. It made the lit monkeys happy. Hee.  
_

_Chapter 2-When there is nothing left to burn_

Bill and Ron looked at each other across the bonfire they were sitting at, trying to warm up but failing miserably. They each had a fag clenched between their lips and the ends glowed an angry red as they smoked them down as quickly as they could.

"Has Remus woken up?" Ron asked his brother as they both lit up another fag, using the ends of the first ones, their movements so synchronized that it was looking at mirror images.

"Not yet. They're moving him out soon. They healed him most of the way, but they still need to take him to St. Mungo's. Malfoy too."

Ron explained to his older brother right before he took a deep drag of his fag.

They sat in silence again until Bill finally broke it.

"How's Harry?"

Ron grinned mirthlessly at the question before he flicked his spent fag into the fire.

"He's finally asleep. Snape had to pour dreamless draught into him to get him to do it. He was completely out of it." Ron paused and rubbed his face roughly. "It was terrifying, Bill. I've never seen him like that. At first he was muttering, but then...when the healers got to work, he just sat down and stared at nothing until Snape got him to drink the potion."

Bill nodded and pushed several loose locks of hair away from his face as he turned to look at his brother rather than the fire.

"It was horrible fate that he was the one to have to find him. After all that time, thinking Sirius Black was dead, coping with the pain and moving on as best as he could despite having such a responsibility on his shoulders and then, when it should have been his time to take a breath and walk away from it..."

He shook his head and had to take a deep swig of the Fire whisky that he had filched from somewhere along the way. Wordlessly, he passed it to Ron, who took a deep drink of it as well.

"-And he ends up finding Sirius half-alive and mutilated beyond comprehension. All in all I would say he had a perfectly normal reaction under the circumstances." Ron finished off bitterly, willing his stomach to stay still as he recalled how ashen Harry had looked as he had returned from the camp with the hideous container floating behind him. How his eyes had looked like burnt holes in his face and even though there was vomit on his shirt, he kept on moving with a single minded purpose that had tipped everyone off that something was not right. It wasn't until he had placed it on an empty stretcher and had literally howled his orders that what was wrong became apparent. Harry didn't snap until after they had finally started working on Sirius and only after several lamps had exploded in the vicinity. It was then that he had sunk down into the chair and had commenced to do nothing but stare ahead.

"Do you think he'll eventually be alright?" Ron asked Bill once the memories had finally stopped. Bill looked at his younger brother long and hard before giving him a sad smile. A smile Ron knew all too well was a precursor for some well-meaning lie meant to soothe, but not really fix the situation at hand.

"Don't lie to me, William. Not about him." Ron whispered right before Bill had opened his mouth. Startled, Bill pressed his lips into a thin line and thought long and hard about what he could tell his brother without sounding like either an utter bastard or outright lying to him.

"I don't know. That's the truth. I don't." he replied, finally deciding to settle honesty, which by the saddened, yet grateful look on Ron's face, he seemed to appreciate more than anything else he could have said.

"I wish I knew also." was all Ron whispered as they fell silent once again and watched the fire that no matter how brightly or strongly it burned, didn't seem to be able to give them any warmth at all.

Remus awoke to a pristine ceiling and Bill Weasley looking down at him with a strained expression on his face. The fact that it was him and not Harry beside him made Remus react without thinking. Something was wrong with Harry. Something must have happened at the last battle and he needed to know whether Harry was alive, or injured or...

Acting on that last thought, he pushed the covers back and was half-way out of bed when Bill grabbed him and forced him back into the bed.

"Let go, William." Remus demanded, his voice low, almost a growl as he spoke the words. Bill shook his head and squeezed the bony shoulders hard to get his point across. Remus struggled at the sudden pressure, but lay still in defeat when he saw that Bill was serious about not letting him go.

They remained like that for several minutes until Remus finally nodded his acquiescence.

"What happened to him?" He asked as he sat up and pulled the covers over his now chilly legs.

Billy frowned at Remus before he sat down on the chair beside the bed he had occupied earlier at Harry's barely intelligible request.

"He's...he's had a big shock." Bill replied, his eyes fixed on his hands as he spoke.

"What kind of a shock? Did Hermione...or Ron...or..." Remus' voice trailed off as he realized that he didn't know who it was that had survived the last battle. Harry would probably be close to the breaking point if any of his friends had died. Or if a girl he loved had also...

Bill grimaced as he looked up. "Hermione was killed and...so was my sister..." Bill took a hard swallow, willing himself to not cry. They hadn't known. Had forgotten, in the excitement of the battle and also when Harry had returned with his burden. They had forgotten to check if any of the family had died. They had just assumed that they had all lived. After all, they all seemed to have the devil's own luck. Death wasn't going to touch them.

How wrong they had been, he had realized when he had gone back into the tent and had seen his sister taking one last wheezing breath as George held her hand, his head bowed as the tears dripped down the edge of his nose and fell onto her face, which had gone a greenish white. He had rushed to them, but he could see that she was past noticing anything in the living world. She had already died when he had touched her face.

He was brought back to the present situation by a gentle hand covering his own. Puzzled for several moments, he looked up and his eyes met with amber ones that finally made him cast off that memory to be dealt with at later time. He had a more pressing matter to deal with at the moment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect for the memories to overwhelm me." He paused and swallowed hard.

"After we found you, Harry went back to Malfoy Manor, I don't know for what reason. He still hasn't said. We didn't know he had gone until he came back with a coffin, which contained a badly tortured and mutilated Sirius Black."

Remus's shook his head violently.

"No. No. No. It...can't be. Sirius fell...Sirius..is gone. He can't have been..." he stammered before trailing off, making Billy wince in pity and sympathy.

"They have confirmed it is him. Spells upon spells have been performed on him and they prove that it is Sirius Black. Since Lucius Malfoy is no longer alive to explain how, the only explanation is that either Sirius was brought back by black magic for a specific purpose that Malfoy's death made superfluous or that a golem was the one that fell beyond the veil. Either way, it's not important at this point. What's important is healing him."

Remus's face went even paler at those words that were spoken with as little inflection as possible. A gesture he knew was to be for his benefit, since he was still far from completely comprehending what he had just been told about Sirius.

"What are his injuries?" he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper once he had been able to get himself together enough to ask.

Bill rubbed his eyes roughly and tried to steel himself to perform the unpleasant task of telling Remus the real reason why Harry had more or less entered a catatonic state that he had only snapped out of about two hours before.

"They crippled him, to keep him from leaving. His spine was broken and his limbs were nailed down to the coffin. His eyes were also sewn shut and his vocal cords were tampered with. They had placed spells on him to impede healing, prolonging the torment of the injuries. The mediwitches are counting on that to help them heal him completely, since the wounds are almost-"

"How...How long was he like that for?" Remus interrupted, his eyes dangerously bright as he spoke.

"They're guessing that at the least, a month or two. At the most, six months to maybe a year." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at the older man, who was sitting on the bed with an expression that was a mixture of overwhelming disbelief, horror and grief.

"How could they do something like that? To keep him in constant pain for almost a year? How?"

Remus whispered as tears slipped down his face, his emotional turmoil too strong for him to notice. Bill too, was wondering how anyone could do that to another human being. He had thought he had known what forms evil could take before. After all, he had been fighting alongside Harry and the order for several years and had seen numerous death eater atrocities along the way. He himself had been a victim of a werewolf attack and he had survived that, despite the nightmares that plagued him. But once he had looked at the almost corpse-like body of Sirius, who could barely utter any noises as they had started to work on the injuries on his body, he had realized he hadn't had an idea until then. He only had the abstracts down and even those hadn't come close to matching the reality.

"Can anyone see him right now, or is it too early?" Remus asked in a shaky voice as he still fought the thought of Sirius being in such a state for a year. God! Would he ever get over that trauma?

Bill shook his head sadly. "It's still too early. They haven't finished working on him yet. No one is allowed to see him. I'm sorry, Remus."

Remus nodded, barely registering the apology.

"How about Harry? Can I see him?" he asked, his voice curiously flat. Bill nodded and slid his hand from under Remus's before he stood up.

"I'll get him. He's just a few doors down." Bill informed him as he went to the door, the feel of Remus's warm hand still on his mind, a thought that he had to force from his mind as he exited the room.

"_It was only comfort. Only a gesture. Don't get too excited over it."_ His mind told him as he walked down the hall. But his heart seemed to think otherwise and wouldn't let him forget. Not even after he had fetched Harry and had gone to the room where Fleur lay unconscious, almost like a fairy-tale princess waiting for her prince. A role that he wasn't sure anyone one, lest of all himself, could fill.

Harry was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands when Bill came to get him. He knew that the oldest Weasley was there because Remus is awake. After nearly four days, he is awake. It's one less weight on his mind, since no one has given him any more news on Sirius. The only information he's received is that they are still working on him and when there is something to report, they will let him know then.

He had no choice but to wait, since according to them, he needed the rest. He supposed that his little vacation from reality unnerved them. That was probably the only reason why he was still in St. Mungo's and not herded about like a prize-winning bull for the wizarding world to drool over.

He shrugged as he got up and followed Bill. The more distance he could put between himself and that circus, the better it would be for him in the long run.

He followed Bill silently down the hall and nodded his good-byes as Bill continued on his way. Probably to Fleur, who Harry had heard from Charlie had been tormented by Lucius Malfoy. Although Charlie hadn't breathed a word about it, Harry could clearly see that no one really held out much hope for her to ever get better.

He pushed those thoughts aside and walked into Remus's room. To his relief, he saw that the older man was awake and looking much better than he had in the past four years that he had known him. The potions and rest would never erase the lines on his face or the grey in his hair, but at least at that moment, Remus doesn't look like he's going to crumble at the least wrong touch.

He sat down on the bed and looked at his former professor, all the while wondering how much Bill had said about Sirius. From the distant look he had in his eyes, Harry knew that everything had been said. At that moment, although he loved Bill like a brother, he was positive that he would have strangled him gleefully. It wasn't that he looked forward to sharing the news; it was more a feeling that the sorrow was for them alone to share. Remus had told him how much Sirius meant to him in the past, present and future. Sirius was Harry's godfather. No one else really had bonds so deep to him. Now, it felt to him that the sorrow had been intruded on and he wasn't sure how to feel about that just yet.

So instead, he settled for sinking into the mundane until things got straight in his head.

"I'm glad you are better, Remus." Harry said to the older man, who smiled thinly. It was then that he knew speaking of the mundane wouldn't work. There was no point between them.

"Likewise, Harry. I must admit that when I woke up to see Bill sitting there that I was afraid something had happened to you." Remus admitted in a soft voice.

"Not to me, but to Sirius." Harry responded, his voice equally quiet as he spoke.

"I know. I can't help but to think that-"

"Don't. Don't think that way. He may be hurt and in a really bad place right now, but he's with us again. He's going to come back to us." Harry interrupted, his voice a harsh snarl by the time he had finished. Remus only closed his mouth as he listened to Harry's words. He wanted to believe that Harry was right. That once the painful wounds both physical and mental were healed properly, that Sirius would be with them again. That he wouldn't leave them. But he was older. He was wiser. He knew that it was wishing for that to occur and that at best, they would get a passable copy of the man they had once known. But he didn't say that. He knew that if he did, it would only break a hope that Harry and to some extent, he himself was holding. So he only nodded in agreement and hoped for it to be true.


	3. Set Yourself On Fire

_Disclaimer: Don't own, Don't sue. Can't get blood from a turnip. As listed before, this is a fairly dark and angsty fic and thus can be disturbing...proceed at own risk. Thank you all of the people that have been reading and reviewing, I do appreciate that you took the time to both read and comment. Cheers. _

_Chapter 3- Set Yourself on Fire_

Molly Weasley was sitting at the big table in the burrow, a pot of fresh tea steaming in the early morning gloom right beside her. She hadn't been able to sleep after being woken up by the owl who delivered the post. Arthur and her children were asleep still and she was caught in that hour that was too late to go back to sleep in and early to do anything useful in once awake. After lying in bed for at least half an hour, the boredom go to her and she finally got up and got dressed. Silently, almost like a shadow, she slipped downstairs and made the pot of tea.

She didn't know why she made it. A cup or two would have been sufficient. None of her children got up early. They had luckily moved past the insomnia stage of grieving. They had more of less moved into their lives, an easy feat since there was so much to rebuild. So much work to get lost into. So much that can ease the raw ache of losing a sister and a brother. Or in Bill's and Ron's case, lovers.

They hadn't much hope for Fleur. She hadn't woken up since the battle and she kept getting worse day by day. Bill had told her, in a late night hushed conversation that they were waiting for his decision. He only had till the following Friday and by the pinched look of his mouth and the paleness of the still raw scars on his face, Molly knew that he had already made the choice to let her go.

She sighed and stirred the milk into her tea yet again. Logically, she knew that was the cost of wars. Her two brothers had been her price to pay in the last one. Her only daughter and her third oldest son had been the ones at this one. She would have been able to live with being the only one to have to pay, but she knew that she wasn't going to be strong enough to provide an anchor for Bill and Ron.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly and took a sip out of the still hot tea and silently prayed that they would find someone that they could share their burdens with.

Molly had just put the tea cup down when Harry Potter quietly sneaked into the kitchen, his hair still a mess, his clothes still rumpled and in ill-repair. He had seen her and gave her a half-hearted smile as he moved over to the cupboard and took out a cup and saucer right before sitting down next to her.

Wordlessly, she poured him a cup and passed the milk and sugar to him, remembering that he took his tea with lots of milk and two spoonfuls of sugar. He fixed his tea and sipped it quietly, his eyes focused on the window. In other circumstances, she would have engaged him into conversation, but she could tell by his actions that she would probably get more of a response from the ghoul in the attic than from him at that moment.

He had been as a ghost the past six weeks. He seldom showed any emotion after he had seen Hermione and his own daughter buried. It was as if he had willed himself to cry only for them and for them alone and that was it. Their deaths had hurt him, but in some strange way, she could tell that those wounds had been cauterized by the tears he had shed at the funeral. Molly Weasley had a suspicion that he would never speak of them or feel for them again lest he disturbed the wounds and their scars.

Molly had known that Harry was having a hard time dealing with the sudden appearance of Sirius Black and the way he was found. Bill had only given her the slightest details and she had been able to infer the rest. So far, he hadn't really come to speak to her. In fact, the only persons that she saw him speaking with were Remus, Ron and Bill. It ached for her, a mother, to not be able to help him. But she was also wise enough to know that if she pushed him, he would simply hide behind the walls he had built to protect himself from all the horrors he had faced. So they sat and drank their tea in silence until a loud crash from the front door broke the pseudo tranquillity between them.

Harry was up on his feet with his wand out faster than Molly had thought possible and was now heading towards the front room. There was a hushed conversation followed by harsh whispers before Harry came back into the kitchen, followed by Remus, who was half-carrying, half-dragging Bill into the Burrow. She jumped up from her spot on the table, her heart racing. Had Bill been injured? Had

they brought him home to die? She was about to ask them what was exactly going on when the strong odour of fire whiskey assaulted her nostrils.

Normally, she would have raised the roof at having her oldest son come home drunk. But the war had made what would have been a big occurrence become nothing more than petty and mundane.

"Fleur?" She whispered as Harry and Remus managed to get Bill sitting at the table. Well, somewhat sitting at the table, since Bill was more or less sprawled over the dining room table, his head cushioned in his arms as he slept on, oblivious to anything or anyone around him.

Remus nodded while Harry prepared a hang-over potion for Bill, not willing to join into the conversation that was without a doubt, going to follow Bill and Remus' appearance.

Molly covered her face with her hands and sat back down on her chair. She knew that it was going to come to this. Knew it when she had first caught Bill sneaking into the house with red-rimmed eyes and the scent of fire whiskey and hash that she recalled smelling on her own brothers back in the days of the first war. She had, to her chagrin, berated him for it until he had sat her down and explained the circumstances. That was why she hadn't said anything now.

What did it matter, now that her son was grieving? Nothing. It was pointless. The only thing that could be done was to provide him with a shoulder to cry on. A sympathetic ear to listen to whatever he may bring up.

She wanted to tell her son that she will be there for him, no matter what will happen in between here and there, but the words won't come out. Not when she saw the way that Remus and Harry hover over him, their words murmured and precise enough to get him to respond. Not when she saw a particular **something** in their eyes that effectively dries the words in her throat. She wasn't part of that grief any longer. None of them will let her in past the first few layers. It should have left her cold, but all she felt was relief tingled with shame at the realization that his grief was one less burden of grief that she would have to carry.

So she sat in silence and watched as the three men stumbled off into the upstairs of the burrow, leaving her with the still steaming pot of tea and the sun rising over the horizon, all of them reminders that life wasn't going to stay still despite them wanting so much for it to do so.

Once Harry and Remus had gotten Bill reasonably sobered up, they walked out of the room and into the back garden of the Burrow. They had only gotten about ten feet away before Harry pulled out a clove and lit it. He offered the pack to Remus, who shook his head, but then took the proffered fag.

Lighting it, they both moved over to the fence. Not that anyone would listen to their conversations. Not that it mattered. They spoke about everything else but what the major issue of Sirius Black that hung over their head. As far as anyone knew, they had settled the issues between them and were now working towards living a normal life. That was why they were left alone. The other theory was that no one wanted to get too close to them smoking those spicy fags.

Remus wondered privately whether that was the reason why they smoked them. To keep everyone at a distance. Not that it mattered, since everyone was nursing their own raw griefs. He suspected that when the tasks of rebuilding had finally been completed or half-way to it, they would all start breaking out of their spheres of pain and reach out to the others that they had ignored. He personally hoped that it would not be for a long time. He wasn't sure that he would be able to be gentle when rebuffing people and their futile kindness.

"She was beautiful." his thoughts were broken at those softly spoken words coming from his godson's lips. He had to turn and look at him, noticing how the roundness of his face had all but melted away in those hard months were they had gone on campaign and the last battle. He hadn't really ever looked like a young boy. But now, the signs of how hard his life had been were etched all over. From the sharp planes of his face, to the faded emerald of his eyes, to the thick streaks of white in his black hair, they all spoke how much pain he had had to endure. And was still enduring.

"She was. She would have made him a good wife." Remus had added as he recalled the few times he had seen her smiling and beaming at Bill's side. How she had given him those looks that only a woman in love would give her man. Looks he knew that Tonks wanted to give him. Looks he simply couldn't return to her.

Harry nodded and exhaled a cloud of blue smoke.

"She would have made him happy." He said, his voice low and raspy. Shrugging, he took another drag of his fag and turned to look squarely at Remus.

"Do you think we'll ever get that?" He asked, making Remus's mouth tighten around the fag.

"Happiness? No. I gave up on that thought years ago." Remus answered, his tone trying for neutral, and failing miserably. He shot a sharp glance at the boy and saw that he was still taking a drag from his fag, his expression the cool and neutral mask he had adopted ever since the funerals of one of his best friends and the girl he had loved.

"Was it when he was taken to Azkaban?" Harry asked quietly, making Remus's shoulders sag. No point in pretending that there had been nothing except friendship between them. He had expected the conversation much earlier, if he was honest with himself and had done all that was necessary to brace himself for it. It did still surprise him that it hit him as badly as it did though. But then he didn't want for Harry to pull back his punches. The time for euphemisms between them was long past.

"Yes. I had given up a small bit of hope before that, but he and your father had returned it to me when we became friends. When he was taken away, that was when it was irrevocably crushed. I treasured the moments we had when he escaped-"

"But you never let yourself hope that there would be more, right?" Harry interrupted the sober monologue. Remus sighed and flicked the fag away before turning to fully face his godson.

"How could I? He was fading away, a prisoner in that forsaken house. His mind was going even more than when he had just escaped Azkaban. I had hoped, that maybe after the war...I could heal him. Heal him enough so that he could live again. And that was taken away when he fell."

Harry nodded and put out his own fag. Crossing his arms against his chest, he looked away from Remus to the pond.

"He's back now." Harry pointed out quietly, making Remus wince.

"I know." Harry turned to look at him then, his eyes an angry flame of green as he did so.

"You know I love you?" Remus closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hands. Yes. He had known that Harry's feelings towards him had gone from respectful affection to love in the last year. He hadn't failed to notice how Harry's eyes had followed him whenever they were in the same room. How the boy had always picked him to be in his reconnaissance teams along with Tonks, Hermione, Ron, Bill and when it couldn't be helped, Ginny. He knew, but he hadn't acted on it.

He hadn't wanted for the boy to worry about his welfare on top of everything else. He had thought that-he smiled grimly to himself when the thought came into his head- After the war, he would maybe try. Although Tonks was a sweet girl, he knew his heart didn't lie with her. He had told her why and she had protested as to why Harry was a better choice than her.

She hadn't believed him when he had explained that even though she was an Auror and had fought alongside them, she would never be able to handle his darkness.

He had hurt her, that was obvious. But he figured that she would be grateful to him in the long run, once she realized that it wasn't a bed of roses to live with someone that turned into a dangerous killer every months. Or if she wanted children, that dream would be denied to her if the laws remained as they had in the ministry for centuries.

At this point, he had to admit that he was lying to her. The laws were changing and if they didn't, he was sure that the saviour would say something about that. So far Harry had forced them to pardon Sirius Black and reverse some of the more inhumane lycanthropy laws. No one was going to say no to the Saviour. Especially not when he wielded power that could easily tip the wizarding world into another war with him doing as much as lifting a finger.

She had finally stopped her attacks and they had settled down into an uneasy partnership that he assumed would be splintered if she found out that he was waiting for the time to make his move on Harry.

He had been prepared to do it the minute that he had woken up in St. Mungo's, but Bill's presence and the news about Sirius had changed all of that. Those news had left them in a limbo for the past six weeks as they waited to know to what extent Sirius was incapacitated. A limbo that neither of them had addressed until Harry had brought it up.

"I know you love me. I saw it long before you did." Remus finally replied, opening his eyes and facing the intense stare of the young man in front of him.

Harry snorted mirthlessly at those news and pulled out another clove cigarette and lit with quick, angry movements that were the only thing betraying the fury and turmoil inside.

"When were you planning on letting me know? Or were you simply going to let me make a fool out of myself?" Harry knew that wasn't fair. Had known it and had taken the shot either way. So he wasn't surprised when the look of hurt was replaced by a vulpine mask of rage.

Remus gave him a low snarl in reply, making Harry wonder whether he had pushed too far

"That's not fair, you bitter little bastard and you know it! In case the last blow of Voldermort scrambled your head, let me remind you that we were at war. You were already carrying more than what was your fair burden when you entered that battle-field. I wasn't about to go an add another one when there was no need." Remus shouted at him, making him blink in shock and back away from the barely contained man in front of him.

"But him coming back is going to change that, isn't it?" Harry finally said after they both had fallen silent in an effort to control emotions that felt new and alien, as if they were being felt for the first time ever. Maybe they were, Remus mused. He hadn't seen Harry be that animated since his sixth year at Hogwarts. He knew that his emotions had been paralysed longer than that and he hated to admit it, but it was almost painful for them to be awake again. Dimly, he wondered whether he would survive the awakening and would have followed that train of though if it hadn't been for Harry's next words.

"Well? Is it? Are you just going to say good-bye, lots of love and send me banknotes for my birthday and all of the appropriate holidays in between?"

Remus gave a short bark of a laugh at that comment and wondered briefly if he could find a burrow to crawl into and sleep until the madness of the world was righted again.

"Think Harry." he said, his voice low and barely hiding the hysterical urge to scream until he's throwing up blood. "Do you actually think that in a month or two Sirius is simply going to get up from that bed he's in at St. Mungo's and ask me whether we have enough cream for tea or whether I fancy the cherry lube over the orange? Harry, that man has lost more of himself than I can even begin to imagine. I'm sure that being tortured in Merlin knows how many ways hasn't helped his mental state any. When he finally wakes, he's **not** going to be the Sirius Black we remember him being. If anything, if we do have a relationship, at the most it will be a dependent relationship that he'll have. With either of us." Remus said, his last words so quiet that Harry had to strain to hear them.

They were silent for what felt like an eternity before Harry flicked away the half-smoked fag and laughed the curiously hollow laugh that had been his mainstay since the sixth year.

"I...I kind of knew that already. That he wasn't going to be the same person as before. I just didn't want to admit it. But I can see the truth in their eyes, when I drop by and they tell me of what little progress has occurred despite their best efforts."

Remus's head jerked at those flat words.

"They've let you see him?" Harry nodded as he ran his hand through his hair, which was now down past his shoulders in loose tangles and knots. _So very like his godfather's own hair._ Remus shook his head. There was no time to sink into sentimentality. Not now.

Harry nodded. "Last night, when you were sitting with Bill. They flooed me and asked me to come."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Remus asked, a note of hurt creeping into his voice.

"You had your hands full with Bill." Was the simple reply. Remus shook his head and Harry shrugged.

"They're still working on him. The spells that made the wounds not heal were actually a blessing in disguise. They managed to completely heal his limbs and his eyes." Harry continued on, as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"They're still working on his spine. Spinal injuries are delicate at the best of times and the fact that his spinal cord was more of less in pieces is making it even harder for them to deal with. They think they will get most of the damage healed, but we aren't supposed to hold our breath."

"When will we know for sure?" Remus asked, feeling that if he didn't speak soon he was going to fulfil his earlier thought of screaming himself mute.

"Three more weeks for certain. His vocal cords are a hopeless cause. They cursed him with a modified spell and no one knows the roots of it. He's not going to be able to speak again."

Remus had to turn away at those words. Sirius's voice gone..That voice that reminded him of strong whiskey and warm toffee...gone except for in memories...

He stayed that way until Harry pulled him into an embrace, an action that he was both embarrassed and grateful for since he knew that his legs were going to give way with all the news he had been given.

"I didn't mean to bait you. It wasn't fair. I was bastard to say that those things to you." Harry whispered into his hair, making Remus aware yet again of the awkwardness of the hug. Although Harry was younger, he was also taller than Remus. The height difference as well as the fact that Harry was the only thing keeping Remus on his feet were making him acutely aware yet again of how all the adults in Harry's life had done more taking from him than giving.

"I know. It's not fair, but you have a right. We all let you down, Harry. Whether we meant to or not."

"Still. You tried. So did he."

"Not hard enough, it seems." Remus said flatly as he then tried to push away from Harry.

"Stop it. I'm not walking away from both of you. We're too fucked up to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. And when he comes home, he'll need that from us as well."

"You've thought this through already, haven't you?" He felt Harry nod as the young man ran his fingers through his greying hair.

"No sense in me complaining then?"

"None."

He let out a sigh and looked up at Harry, whose green eyes were now shining with something more than the angry fire he had had since defeating Voldermort.

"Fair enough."


	4. The State That I Am In

_Disclaimers-Don't own, Don't sue, Can't get blood from a turnip._

_Many thanks to all that are reading and I do apologize for the delay. My School year has just started so I am fairly busy nowadays. Thanks for you patience. Cheers. _

_Chapter 4-The State That I'm In_

Ron sat on the far end of the mattress, a book held loosely in his hand as he watched the sunrise through the bedroom window. He hadn't slept the whole night. That was fine. He'd rather work himself into exhaustion so that he would be able to fall asleep and not dream about anything. He found it easier to maintain his sanity that way. It hurt too much to dream of her and wake up without her anywhere near him.

He knew his older brother probably felt the same way. But he found his oblivion with hash and fire whiskey and the occasional pub fight.

No one liked that he was trying his hardest to drive himself into his grave, but they didn't know how to tell him to stop hurting himself, to find the will to move away from that and to begin to live again. No one had themselves together enough to demand it of him. Ron would have done it, but he knew that he was the last to even begin speaking about that kind of loss. Hermione's death weighed on him so heavily that it was almost a physical presence upon him. He missed her horribly. From the time he woke up, to the time he closed his eyes, he missed her. He would have to catch himself time and time again as he set the table for two instead of one. Or when he expected her to come up behind him and run her hands through the hair that was now reaching his elbows. Logically, he knew that it wouldn't happen again. But he still kept on hoping it would and he would end up hating himself the more for it.

Sighing, he let the book drop to the mattress. He was sick of losing people he cared about. He had lost Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Lavender and even his poncy git of a brother. There were more names on the list, but he didn't have the strength both of the physical and mental kind to tally them up one by one as he had done previous nights. Bill had exhausted him beyond what he thought his limits were.

At first, when they had inexplicably been drawn together after the many skirmishes and finally the big battle, Ron had honestly believed that they would have been able to handle anything that happened together. After all, it had been years since they had shared that kind of closeness and he was convinced that it was yet another reason to keep on fighting. To take the extra mile in precautions and not risk being fool-hardy in battle. Now, thinking back, he had to laugh bitterly at how naïve he had been. He had realized that it was impossible when Hermione died. She had been one of the last to go and when the news of her death came, he had nearly broken right then and there. But Harry needed him. Bill needed him, since they had just found Fleur and even then, the situation hadn't looked good, even though the healers and medi-witches were careful to be neutral.

Bill had been his rock during the mass wake and cremation. There were simply too many dead to give her a proper and private funeral. The bodies needed to be burned quickly lest they spread disease or worse; end up being used in blood or dark magic. He had watched the fires spread through the shrouded bodies through tear-filled eyes and his brother had stood right beside him, his hand on his shoulder a comforting weight that made the loss just a fraction easier to take.   
He had promised to himself that if Bill needed him, he would gladly return the favour ten-fold.

But the chance never came.

Somewhere along the way, Bill had made the choice for him, deciding that he was better off dealing with the pain by himself. A choice that Ron, despite his misgivings, had respected. But as the weeks and then months passed, all he saw coming from that choice was his brother inching closer to death by booze and neglect and no one was able to scale the fortress of loneliness he had built up to halt it or at least stop its progresss.

At least no one in the Weasley household, Ron thought bitterly.

He wasn't angry that somehow, Harry and Remus Lupin had gotten closer to Bill than anyone in the family had. He understood that despite the facade that they put on, they all were fragmented. Not until they began their own healing could they reach out. He was tactless and occasionally dense, but he could see that far at least. He loved his brother, but he wasn't strong enough to help him. He had to find a way though, before he ended up losing his brother, something that he was sure as hell **not** going to do without a fight.

Sighing deeply at the decision he had reached, he went over to the desk after his legs had stopped tingling from being in one position for too long and wrote out a simple note. Calling Hermes, he attached the note and sent him off on his way. Maybe they would be able to help him more. Merlin knew no one else had been able to do it.

(Line Break)

He was lying on an old fashioned hospital bed, under pristine, pale blue sheets. The colour made his skin look even paler than it already was and his hair darker than the last time he had seen him. He looked younger, the deep lines around his mouth and eyes gone or at least softened so that they weren't as noticeable as they had been a few years prior.

There was almost nothing to show what he had gone through, only the bandages around the wrists and hands gave indication of it. He was sleeping peacefully and there were no monitoring spells around him. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Sirius had just laid down for a nap and would wake soon and things would be the same as they had been years ago when they were students.

_He really didn't look any different from what I recall of him, _Remus mused as he paused in his study of the man that had been the world to him before sitting down on a chair next to the bed. He studied the man a little while longer as he tried to decide whether that was a good thing or not. After all, he knew that despite the physical form being the same, there was no knowing how much of the man he had known and loved remained unaltered. And if he was changed or worse, broken, whether he would be able to come to terms with the new Sirius while trying to not compare him to the one he used to know. He rubbed his face tiredly and sat back in the chair, willing himself to not think about that at that time. There was no point in speculating when he didn't have all of the pieces to look over. And despite what he wanted to believe, it didn't look like he was going to get those answers soon enough. Although Sirius had come a long way in the two and a half months that had lapsed since the last battle and him being brought to St. Mungo's, He hadn't fully regained consciousness once in that time. When he had woken up, he was always confused and more often than not, caught up in a dream state that was nightmarish at the worst and confounding at the least. He had witnessed these occurrences a few times when he and Harry had visited and despite the assurances of the healers that he was actually much more awake than those times suggested and once the potions wore off, he would be completely lucid again. Remus still held misgivings about that actually being the case; But he never voiced them aloud. Not when Harry was adamant that Sirius was improving somewhat.

The bitter diatribe that had got them past the barriers of their reluctance and silence had been firmly pushed aside. Although he still believed that Sirius was going to heal, he was being more realistic about the matter. He had accepted that his godfather's voice was gone permanently and had instead focused on making sure that the rest of his injuries received the best care that he could procure for him. He knew that spinal injuries were often than not permanently dehabilitating and he wasn't going to have his godfather end up crippled and dependent on others if he could help it. He was also determined that once Sirius had fully regained his faculties that care would also extend to his mental well-being also.

That he held no illusions about. Sirius's mental state had suffered, whether they wanted to admit it or not, when he had been almost a prisoner in Grimmauld Place. Torture for an unspecified amount of time, not to mention whatever it was that he had experienced during his time in the veil would no doubt have some effects on his mental state also. The question was whether it would be possible to heal his mind enough for him to be functional enough for him to deal with everyday life.

For his sake, Remus fervently hoped so. Sirius had had suffered too much already. He deserved to have some kind of peace, if happiness was too much to hope for him to get.

So deep was he in his thoughts that when he felt the feeble touch on his hand he started so badly that he nearly fell out of his chair. Catching himself quickly, he was surprised to see Harry looking down at his with an expression that was trying for amused, but was simply tired and drawn.

Frowning, Remus opened his mouth to ask what the matter was, but Harry shook his head and jerked his head in the direction of the hallway. Nodding, Remus left the room as quietly as he could, only pausing to look back to check on Sirius, who was thankfully still asleep.

Once he had closed the door behind him, he faced Harry, who was looking at him with a neutral expression on his angular face.

"I just finished speaking with the healers in charge of Sirius's case." he stated in a flat voice that made Remus swallow convulsively.

"What did they say about his condition?" he asked, torn between wanting to hear the answer and not wanting to hear them lest the hopes he held were crumbled into dust.

"The healers have finished treatment on Sirius's spine. But there was damage to the spinal cord that they simply couldn't fix. No matter what they tried, it just couldn't be done."

Harry said, his voice almost a monotone as he revealed what had just been explained to him after almost half an hour of vociferous arguing on his part.

"How bad is the damage?" Remus asked, his voice as emotionless as if he was asking for Harry to pass the tea or asking how the weather was outside.

"He's paralysed from the chest down They aren't holding out any hope for him to regain any feeling or movement." Harry continued in the same monotone. Remus nodded and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Would it sound horrible if I said I was expecting worse?" he asked Harry, who started at the question and then shook his head.

"I want to say yes, but part of me is simply thanking Merlin that he's at least got the use of his hands left. He's not obviously going to be independent as he was in the past...but it would be a hundred times worse for him if he's both without a voice and utterly dependent on someone for his every need."

Harry sighed, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, making Remus come closer and brush his hair out of his face gently.

"I want to take comfort in that, but I can't shake the feeling that I failed him somehow, yet I have no idea how I could have prevented this." He snorted and drew closer to Remus until he was able to put his head down on Remus's shoulder.

"So much for being the saviour of the world. I couldn't save my best friend. Couldn't save Ginny, couldn't save Sirius. And now that I get the chance...I can't do anything to help...how useful is being so powerful that I can't even do that for him?" He fell silent and let Remus wrap his arms around him as he silently let out the tears of both anger and frustration that had been building up since the meeting with the healers that he had stubbornly refused to let out until then.

Remus closed his eyes and stroked Harry's hair, letting him cry his disappointment out. He hadn't any words to say, since he too was fighting with the weight of crushed hopes. He only hoped that when the time came, that he wouldn't hold any strong or high hopes over Sirius's mental health. He didn't think that neither he or Harry were strong enough to withstand more shattered hopes.


	5. Fevers and Mirrors

_Disclaimers: As always, the situations are mine, the characters aren't. I do apologize for the long delay in posting this part up, my beta has been really busy in RL. Many thanks to those are waiting and reading this story still. Cheers!_

_Chapter 5- Fevers and Mirrors_

_It was just like when he was sick and stuck at home. He was always dreaming about black and white and muted grey rooms that he would run to and keep running away from. He could feel the decaying fingers reaching out for him, hear the whisper of the rotted robes as they slid over dessicated flesh. He would run and run, his lungs fit to burst, but he couldn't run fast enough. Already his robes were soaked with sweat and there was a stitch in his side. He would see Regulus crouched down in the corners, playing with something that he couldn't make out. He would always get distracted once he saw the blood dripping from his brother's playthings. And then the hands would grab him, clamping down so hard on his shoulders that he would scream..._

_And keep on screaming as they drove the pikes through the palms of his hands, the metal crushing the bone, splintering it into a million fragments until his fingers stiffened and locked in position. They would drive the other two into his ankles, and the pain was fleeting, because his spine wasn't sending the right signals to his brain. That made him scream louder because it is worse than feeling that agony. A hundred times worse and he could taste blood as it comes up into his mouth. The blood oozed out and he could almost feel, like a fine layer of broken glass, the pain of his vocal cords being shredded with each scream he vocalized. _

_They didn't make an effort to stop him from making so much noise. They laughed and continued with their work, which was taking the needle and the thick black thread and look down at him. And show him the next step of his torture. _

_His voice finally gave out when the needle pierced first his eyelid and then the flesh under his lower eyelid. The first time is bad enough, but the sensation of thread going through skin and being pulled tight is repeated, over and over again. Pierce. Tighten. Loop. Pierce. Tighten. Loop..._

_He can't see when it's all done. His eyelids hurt when he tried to open them, despite knowing full well the thread would just tear the skin. He howled in horror and it is then that they get fed up and finally took his ragged voice from him. Right before they slowly slid the lid over the coffin..._

The first thing that registered in his nightmare clouded mind was that the ceiling he was looking at was blue. St. Mungo's blue. The second thing was that he was lying on a firm mattress in a bed rather than the unyielding wood of the coffin he spent Merlin knew how much time in. The third thing was that James and Remus were looking down at him. The fourth was that he simply couldn't feel anything below a certain point.

That was what made him realize the fifth thing, since he opened his mouth to speak and no sound came out. Panicking, he tried again, but there was only silence. James and Remus looked worried and strained and they were reaching out to him, helping him sit up and giving him water to drink, which he swallowed greedily, hoping that it would help.

He tried to speak again, but the stubborn silence remained. Why was the silence still there? He was at St. Mungo's! They had to fix it! Why hadn't they fixed it! He needed his voice! How could he function without it?

"Sirius, please. Calm down. Sirius. Look at me. Look at me." Remus said, his voice and eyes soothing and hypnotizing at the same time, making him obey and stop panicking.

"Your voice is gone. The healers couldn't work the counter-curses against it. They tried. I'm sorry."

Remus explained to him, his eyes fixed on Sirius's face as he explained slowly and carefully what was going on. Harry only stood back and watched as Sirius's face went deathly pale and then blank as the news sunk in.

He opened his mouth once or twice before shaking his head in denial, his hands curling up into Remus's old robes as he shook his head. Remus murmured something else, but Harry didn't catch it. All he could see was that Sirius had buried his face into Remus's chest and his shoulders were jerking up and down. It wasn't until he heard the loud sounds of sniffling and sobbing that he realized that Sirius was crying...without being able to weep or moan.

That was when he finally lost it and ran out into the hall, his knuckles shoved into his mouth lest he out his own sobs and unnerve Sirius even further.

Although Remus understood why Harry had run out, he still couldn't help the small curl of anger that arose from him stomach as he was left to calm down the hysterical Sirius. He knew that it was a horrific piece of knowledge to wake up to, and had tried to not break himself when Sirius mouthed out questions and platitudes that couldn't be understood without sound.

Finally, Sirius had jerked himself away from Remus and had pulled the sheets away to get up and more than likely find a healer that would explain to him why he was voiceless. Remus hadn't made a move to stop him, not out of cruelty, but because he knew that there was simply no point in stopping him. He would much rather have Sirius find everything out at once and hopefully get over the shock much sooner than later.

Remus had expected Sirius to attempt to leap out of the bed. He had never been one to go slow for anything. Sirius tried to move at least twice, but only his upper body moved, his lower body remained in the same position. Frantic, he began to poke and prod at his legs until finally, he started punching them. Eyes wide, he looked up at Remus and mouthed out "I can't feel them! I can't feel them!"

Remus winced and watched as Sirius opened his mouth and took a deep breath. And attempted to scream, the only sounds being hacking, rasping noises that soon stopped when Sirius spat out blood and instead began to claw at his hair and at his own face.

"No! Sirius! Don't! Please! It's not going to help anything! Stop! Please!" Remus pleaded as he swooped in and pulled Sirius into a bone-crushing hug, trapping his hands between them until the other man had calmed down enough to not harm himself.

They sat like that for at least ten minutes until Sirius agreed to not hurt himself any longer. Once he had let him go, Remus then tucked him back into the bed and pulled out several rolls of parchment and a self-inking quill that he had planned to use earlier, but hadn't had the chance to since Sirius's most recent and lucid awakening had been more chaotic and distracting than he had anticipated.

He was going to move back into his seat, but Sirius grasped his robe and shook his head. Despite feeling a revulsion to the pathetic gesture he would have never dreamed possible from Sirius Black, Remus complied and sat next to him, his only other movements being when he pulled the wheeled table closer to them both.

Sirius watched him place the items on the bedside table before giving him a look of utter gratitude and grabbing them to scribble out his queries, which ranged from questions about how the battle had gone, how long he had been unconscious and whether there was any hope for his condition.

Remus answered the questions as well as he could, all the while wishing that he had different answers to them. The worst question to ask, after the query about his voice he saw was being scribbled out carefully, as if Sirius was weighing whether he really wanted to hear the answer or not.

_I'm not going to walk again either, am I? _Sirius wrote, making Remus sigh and shake his head.

Sirius swallowed hard before nodding his understanding and although he tried to be calm about it, his hands shook as he put the quill down.

"No. You'll have to rely on a wheelchair from now on." Remus replied calmly. Sirius exhaled loudly and put his head on Remus's shoulder again.

Remus blinked his tears back and tenderly began to stroke the long hair. Whether to comfort him or to comfort himself, he wasn't sure. He didn't know how long he spent running his fingers through the long, silken strands when the sound of the door being opened made him look up.

Harry was standing there, in his hands a tray of take-away coffee and pastries from the coffee shop across the street rather than from St. Mungo's cafeteria.

He raised an eyebrow at what was obviously a peace offering and Harry only grinned back crookedly.

Harry had felt horribly guilty having run out of the room when Sirius had broken down and had even had his own panic attack in the men's lavatory.

He had been prone to them ever since the war had ended and usually was fine after locking himself in a small area and crying until he was able to breathe normally once again. Although he would feel like hell right after, his emotions would calm down and his mind would clear.

Once he the panic attack had finished, he had washed his face and walked out of the lavatory and outside St. Mungo's for a quick smoke. He had ignored the whispers and comments that inevitably popped up whenever people saw him indulging his habit.

"The man don't give a fuck." He muttered to himself as he lit up the clove and closed his eyes in bliss as the clover-laced smoke went deep into his lungs. He exhaled it through his nose and smiled to himself as the welcome, heady rush of nicotine entered his system.

As far as he was concerned, he deserved a bit of a lee-way to indulge his habit. He had saved the fucken world from a madman and had come through relatively unscathed and hadn't demanded that everyone get down on their knees to worship him. The least they could do was leave him to destroy his lungs in peace if he so chose to.

Once the fag was done and stubbed out, he lazily sauntered down to the coffee shop and picked up some tea and coffee as well as pastries for himself, Remus and Sirius. He admitted to himself the only reason why he was buying coffee and tea at an overpriced coffee shop was to not get completely reamed out the minute that he went back to his godfather's room. He knew that he had been an utter coward when faced with Sirius's reaction to finding himself mute. He could only imagine how much worse it had been when he found out about his paralysis; which Harry was sure had happened directly after.

Shaking his head, he picked up his purchases and went back to Sirius's room, where he found Remus holding a dozing Sirius and stroking his hair as he slept.

Although Remus didn't say anything, he could tell by the slight yellow glint that there was going to be a conversation between them later on. He knew it was his due, so he simply smiled and started doling out the goodies. Once Sirius woke up, Harry apologized and they all got down to the business of polishing off the pastries (which were fairly good) and the coffee (which was fine, but certainly not worth the price they were selling it for).

Once they had finished and had thrown the rubbish away, they sat in a loose triangle as they tried to figure out exactly what to talk about. They sat in the slightly uncomfortable silence for several minutes until Sirius finally broke it by loudly scrabbling for the quill and parchment and scribbling out something that he pushed forward for both Harry and Remus to read.

_So when will they let me out of St. Mungo's? _Remus and Harry read the message and blinked at each other. They had completely forgotten!

"Today. As soon as the healers give you another check up, we'll be going back to Godric's Hollow."

Harry told him as a genuine smile graced his angular features.

"They were just waiting for you to stay awake for a longer period than you have been." Remus explained to Sirius, who nodded in understanding.

_Where are we going after this then? _Sirius wrote out carefully.

Remus and Harry exchanged a look before Harry explained to the other man that they were going to Godric's Hollow, which made him smile warmly. That smile made Remus's heart clench slightly. He hadn't seen Sirius smile like that since they had been fourteen years old.


	6. Chasing the Butterfly

_Notes/Disclaimers: Of course, JKR owns the characters. Prose is mine. Many thanks for those that are still reading and reviewing this story. It is a difficult animal to sit back and read (much less write) so I really appreciate all that read and review. (Cheers to you DD!) Once again, let's begin. _

_Chapter 6-Chasing the Butterfly_

Bill stood nervously on the front steps of Godric's Hollow, his hand poised over the door-bell as he struggled between running away and actually reaching out and pressing the damned button.

He had wanted to be furious with Ron when he had shoved his rucksack at him and told him to go to Godric's Hollow. He had wanted to be able to summon the emotion, but something in Ron's voice told him to not to test his brother. Instead he just let himself be pushed out of the Burrow and into the road and not get a word in the monologue that Ron was performing all the while.

"I've already written to Harry and he said it was fine. They have a room all set for you. Just go, Bill. Trust me just this once, if you don't do anything else." Ron had told him, his blue eyes deadly serious as he pressed a coke can into his hands.

"Here's the port-key. Bye Bill." was the last thing he heard coming from his baby brother's mouth before he experienced the sickening feeling of having a hook pulled through his navel and ending up kneeling in front of a new, but comfortable looking house.

He coughed a bit and got to his feet a bit shakily. He stood still for a few minutes, taking in gulping breaths to calm the shakes that port had given him.

Maybe Ron was right in that he needed to get away from things. He had never been that shaken up by a port before, he mused as he then stretched out his arms. And stopped in mid-stretch when he saw that his wrists looked too thin and too delicate and almost swam in his shirt cuffs. His bracelets and watch also looked enormous around the wasted appendages. With a bitter grin, Bill had to admit that Ron had picked the right time to step in. Merlin knew he wasn't going to do it. Not when he hadn't noticed he was barely more than a walking skeleton.

Bill shuddered slightly as he lowered his arms and continued walking to the house that had a cheery sign post proclaiming it to be Godric's Hollow, which he dimly recalled as being Harry's new home.

That had all been exactly ten minutes ago, if his watch was to be believed.

He blinked at the time and took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders back and finally pushed the door-bell.

And nearly fell on his arse when the door flew open and he found himself face to face with a slightly awake Harry, who was sporting the mother of all bed heads and had a clove clamped between his teeth and a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Took you long enough. Come in then." was all Harry growled as he turned and padded further into the house. Bill only raised an eyebrow and hastily toed his shoes off. Once he had done that, he realized that his nervousness gone at the amusing sight of Harry wandering around his home half-asleep and dressed in huge cargo trousers and a T-shirt that had "Yeah, I'm a big F#$#!ng ray of sunshine!" stencilled on the back in white letters.

They passed past a homey looking sitting room before entering a bright and cheery kitchen decorated in blues and creams where Remus was currently making breakfast. Bill had enough presence of mind to only blink and not openly gawk at the sight of Sirius sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around a large mug of steaming coffee as he read the newspaper spread out in front of him.

It wasn't so much the sight of the man doing something utterly mundane that floored him. Rather, it was the fact that he was looking ten times much more healthier than the last time Bill had set eyes on him. That and the fact that he was sitting in one of those contraptions- a wheelchair, was it?- that crippled muggles used to move around.

"Would you like some coffee, Bill?" Remus asked as he seemingly materialized right in front of him, a mug of the proffered drink in his hand. Bill blinked and accepted the mug with alacrity, all the while hoping that he hadn't been rude or blatantly obvious while looking at Sirius.

"Sugar and milk are over there." Harry mumbled as he finally lit up the clove and sunk down in the chair next to Sirius.

"Hey, Sirius. This is Bill. Bill Weasley. One of the Weasleys. You remember him? He's going to be living with us now." Harry told the other man, who looked up at Bill with wide, questioning grey eyes before nodding in a blank way before returning to his paper.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep drag from the fag he was holding, his expression one of weary frustration that made Bill wonder how difficult living with Sirius was for Harry and Remus.

Harry opened his eyes then and the expression was replaced by one of cheerful neutrality that made Bill wonder if he had simply imagined the one before.

"Whatcha reading there, Pads?" Harry's question nearly made Bill drop the mug he was stirring milk and sugar into. Since when had Harry called Sirius "Pads"?

He would have asked if he hadn't noticed the way that Remus's mouth tightened at the term of endearment, so he just dropped it and instead went to the chair opposite Harry's and Sirius's.

"Have you eaten breakfast, Bill?" Remus asked him once he had taken a swallow of the coffee and put the mug down on the table.

"No. Didn't have time." He explained a bit sheepishly, not wanting to admit that he had been ambushed by his little brother and literally gotten thrown out of The Burrow.

"Pancakes okay?" Bill nodded and took another long drink from his mug, all the while trying to not be obvious as he watched Harry and Sirius. Remus had told him about Sirius the last time that the older man had dropped by The Burrow to speak to his mother and in an indirect way, to check on him. Although the evidence was right there in front of him, it still unnerved him to know that Sirius would be mute for the rest of his life. It was even more unnerving when he saw Harry and Sirius communicating by using sign language, their hands moving like hummingbirds as they got their ideas across to each other. He could see that they were still new at the language, since once in a while hands would falter, or one of them would get a frustrated expression on his face before sighing. But overall, they could speak. Idly, he mused that he would probably have to pick up sign language, since he was to be living there for what probably was going to be a long time.

"Here are the pancakes. Just let me know if you want more." Bill blinked as a platter of perfectly golden pancakes, along with butter and maple syrup appeared in front of him.

"Thank you." Bill replied as he picked up the cutlery that appeared right after. Remus smiled a tired smile and sat down with a large mug of tea. He set the mug down and looked over at Sirius and Harry, who were quietly laughing at something in the paper.

"Do you two gits want something to eat or not?" Remus asked them in a tone of long-suffering patience that made Bill smile. He had to wonder whether that tone was a side-effect caused by doing domestic chores, since Remus at that time sounded too much like his mum.

"You're done making the pancakes?" Harry asked as he took the last drag of his clove and stubbed it out in the Holyhead Harpies ashtray sitting on the bookshelf behind his chair. Sirius looked up and wrinkled his nose at the clove while Harry only ruffled his hair and stood up.

Remus nodded and indicated to the stack of fresh pancakes sitting on the counter covered by a light blue dish towel.

"Ta very much, luv. We'd probably starve without you." Harry grinned as he waved his wand and got plates, cutlery and said pancakes on the table.

"Or subsist on fast food and rubbish." Remus replied tartly, making Harry wink at him and pat him on the back as he went and fetched the syrup and butter.

Bill watched the exchange with interest, noting how despite the obvious attraction between Remus and Harry, they did nothing more than trade quiet banter. Occasionally, they would touch, but the touches were so slight that he had to wonder whether he was imagining it all or not.

As for Sirius, he didn't notice anything different. The man used sign language to talk to the other two men and would occasionally give him a small apologetic smile when he noticed him, but for the most part he acted as if he wasn't there.

Once the breakfast was done and Remus announced that he would be cleaning the kitchen with Bill's help, Harry nodded and took a hold of Sirius's contraption.

"I guess we'll get ready then. Come on Pads." Harry said as he pushed the wheel-chair out of the room.

Once the two men were alone in the room, Remus accio'ed a pack of the same fags that Harry smoked and lit one up, only then calling the ashtray forth. He smoked in silence for a few moments and Bill had to wonder whether he was going to be told anything or if he was just going to damage his lungs with second-hand smoke.

Bill waited for a few minutes before he got up and began to gather the dishes still on the table. He had just gotten all of them in the sink and was just running water over them when Remus spoke.

"Go ahead and ask. We might as well get everything out of the way if you're going to stay here for awhile." Remus told him calmly.

Bill nodded as he then squirted dish-washing liquid into the scrubbing sponge and started to work on the dishes. He hated doing dishes by hand, but he figured it was better to keep his hands busy when talking about obviously delicate topics. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Remus and watched as the older man lit another fag and wished, just for that moment that he smoked too. Cigs made good camouflage, he noted wryly as he watched the other man seemingly relax as he smoked.

"Okay. Well, first of all, why does Harry call Sirius Pads? Why does Harry look so old when he talks to Sirius? Why is it that you and Harry barely touch, despite it being clear that you are in love with each other? Why did you decide to invite me here if you have Sirius to deal with?" Bill asked calmly as he scrubbed a plate.

Remus sighed and chuckled softly before replying.

"You do go for the hard ones first don't you?" Remus asked sardonically while Bill shrugged.

"I've always been a firm believer in getting the hard stuff out of the way first." He replied lightly.

Remus laughed quietly before he began to speak.

"As you know, Sirius was released from St. Mungo's three months ago. He's slowly getting adjusted to his new life, but it is very hard to overcome both whatever damage Azkaban and the torture did to him. Although he does recognize me and Harry, some days he confuses Harry with his father."

Remus sighed again and took a drag from his fag before continuing.

"It's just easier for Harry to go along with him, otherwise, let's just say it's not a pretty sight. Harry's slowly been trying to get him to come to the present and recognize that he isn't James Potter. But it is hard work. We try, but the healers say that it will take some time for him to fully come to terms with that. They think that he confuses Harry with James because James represents the time that he was truly safe and happy."

Bill winced at the flatly spoken explanation and continued to wash the dishes. He didn't know who he should have pitied more, the confused Sirius or the burdened Harry and Remus.

"As for Harry and I, we have to be discreet because Sirius is very emotionally fragile right now. If he were to perceive that he was being shut out of Harry's and my affections, it would drive him further into himself. When he gets better, we will break the news to him."

"What about me? How do I fit into this equation?" Bill asked as he rinsed off the last of the dishes. If he had to admit it, he was totally shocked that he had finished the chore so quickly. But then, he told himself, when he had to wash dishes he wasn't usually involved in such heavy conversations.

"Your brother asked us to take you in. He wrote us a letter right after Fleur's death." Bill winced and held onto the edge of the sink tightly. Even though it had been close to six or seven months, it still hurt like hell. Dimly, he wondered if the pain would ever subside. Whether it would eventually scab over and scar like the cuts and bites he had all over the place.

"Ron was worried that you were committing passive suicide by staying in the Burrow and not letting anyone in. He thought that maybe if you came here, away from the memories that maybe you could heal. We aren't asking anything of you Bill. We don't want for you to feel pressured into anything."

Bill felt his breath hitch in his throat as he remembered how bright and how full of pain Ron's eyes were the last few times that they had looked at him. He understood why Ron did what he did and why he had sent him to Harry and Remus's home. They didn't have the resources to help heal him. Not when they all were dealing with grief themselves. Also, his pain was more personal and unless he chose to invite his family in, they would have all felt that they were intruding.

At Harry and Remus's home, he had the choice to either heal by himself or invite them in. And he didn't have the added pressure of asking. He could do it when he had decided it would be the right time to reach out and seek that help. He also wondered, vaguely, if there was something he could offer. He felt uncomfortable free-loading and that was what prompted his next comment.

"You still haven't answered why you decided to take me in." Bill pointed out once he had gotten himself under control.

Remus was silent for so long that Bill couldn't resist the urge to turn around and look at the man to at least get some clue as to what he was thinking about. But that didn't help either, since Remus's face was shuttered and the smoke curling up from his fag made it even more so.

"I made a mistake sixteen years ago, because I was too blind to reach for or to accept the help being offered to me. If I can prevent someone that I care about from making the same mistake, those painful lessons that I learned will be worthwhile. Thank you for washing up Bill. If you don't mind, I'll show your room now. I'm sorry to be short on time, but I have errands to run."

Bill's mouth opened and closed as he tried to formulate a reply to the abrupt ending of the conversation, but decided that for now, he would simply remain quiet. Besides, his mind was still stuck on the fact that Remus had admitted he cared for him.

Although he knew it was probably meant in a fatherly way at the least and in a platonic way at the most, he still couldn't help but to be fixated on it. Bill swallowed hard then and closed his mouth as he followed the older man out of the kitchen and to his own room.

-O-

Harry ran the water in the tub and added the bubble bath that purported to smell like the ocean. He personally thought that fairy piss smelt better, but Sirius had developed a preference to the scent so he liberally poured it in the bath. He made sure to pour a whole lot of it into the large tub and made a mental note to get Sirius addicted to a much more pleasant scent, like maybe grass or mandarins.

Once the tub was filled to the desired level, he turned to his godfather, who had already gotten himself undressed and was patiently waiting for Harry to do the same.

Although he had at first found it strange to strip and take a bath with his godfather, he had quickly put aside his prudishness for practicality and peace of mind. Not to mention the chance to return some dignity to the older man.

Due to his paralysis, Sirius was unable to climb into the bath unaided and also needed help in washing himself. They had tried to sponge bathe him, but it was obvious that the procedure was horrifically mortifying for him, not to mention that it never left him fully clean like a bath would have. After one memorable afternoon in which Sirius had told him to dump him into the bathtub and he would either bathe himself or drown, Harry had had enough. He filled the tub and had dumped Sirius into it gracelessly and then proceeded to climb in as well.

Although it had nearly deteriorated into a fist fight, they had managed to get themselves clean. The bathing routine had been set from that day forth and even though Remus may have had reservations, he followed the same path Harry had set. Sirius seemed to not mind it and had said that although it was strange to share a bath with his godson and his best friend, it was better than having his balls sticky with half-rinsed soap.

Although Remus had been less than thrilled by the comment, Harry couldn't help but laugh at it. Those flashes of humour, although crude, were proof that Sirius was slowly coming back. The healers were optimistic and so was Harry for the most part. It was ammunition for him to keep on fighting to bring that man he recalled from those brief interludes in Grimmauld place.

Sometimes, that was the only thing that kept Harry from throwing his hands up in disgust and walking away from his godfather during his less than lucid periods.

Shaking his thoughts away, he stripped off his clothes and quickly, almost absent-mindedly spelled Sirius into the tub. Harry followed quickly, not daring to look at his godfather's body until it was hidden by the thick fluffy foam floating on the surface. Once Sirius was safely hidden by the screen of bubbles, he slid in behind him, careful to keep the touching on the friendly, but clinical level.

Sometimes he asks himself whether it would be simpler to not climb into the bath with Sirius. He knew that some, like Hermione and Tonks, thought it strange that he and Remus did. Harry had thought it strange at first, but after Sirius had nearly drowned when Remus had tried it, the matter was closed. Besides, he and Remus had noticed that Sirius thrived on the touch. Not in the sexual sense, but simply in the sensation of being touched. The healers had stated that after the isolation and torture, touch was a good way to heal his fractured psyche. It was a necessity that he had been lacking for so long that his body and mind craved it indiscriminately.

So armed with that knowledge, he indulged Sirius as much as he could, propriety and anything else be damned.

Harry allowed Sirius to lean back against him, going even so far as wrapping his arms around the man. He indulged this for a few moments, enjoying the hot water and the warmth of flesh against his for a few moments before he picked up the bath pouf and began scrubbing Sirius clean. He didn't know why he did it, only that it felt like he needed it as much as his godfather did.

But today, he clung onto Sirius's back for a few moments longer than necessary. He didn't know why, but Bill's arrival had unnerved him strongly. Not just because of the fact that Bill had become a ghost of his former self. Or the fact that Ron had more or less begged for Harry and Remus to do anything in their power to fix him.

Harry had had to snort at that sentiment, even though he knew that Ron meant every word in the letter. He also knew that what Ron was asking was impossible. Bill wasn't going to heal from a wound that deep. Not unless he found a reason to heal himself. And Harry wasn't sure whether he and Remus, could do that for him.

Sirius moved and that stopped Harry's musings. He would have to deal with the question Bill posed later. He wasn't about to deal with Sirius half heartedly. Not when it was going to be one of the bad days.

-O-

Remus sat in the Leaky Cauldron and stared at the drink in front of him. He knew that he needed it to settle his nerves. Not to mention distract him enough from the new addition to their impromptu family. But every time that he had tried to block the angular face from his mind, his traitorous thoughts would come right back to it.

Bill was in his thoughts ever since that conversation in the kitchen. Not just because he had revealed the painful truths about his, Harry's and Sirius's lives. But because of the broken way that his soul shone out of his eyes. Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes and wondered whether despite all of their good intentions, they were simply delaying the inevitable road trip to hell.

Eyeing his drink, he then took a gulp of it and wondered if he wasn't lying to himself after all.


	7. Happiness, More or Less

_Disclaimer-Don't own. Don't sue. JKR,Bloomsbury and WB on the characters. Prose is the only claim I have._

_Warm thanks to all that are still with me and still reviewing. I know this is a very dark and mature fic so cheers! On with the fic and I hope you can dig it. Cheers again! _

_Chapter 7- Happiness, more or less_

Harry sat on the porch, a clove clamped between his teeth and a novel lay forgotten on his lap. Bill was sitting beside him, maps and scribbled scrolls lying in his lap as he tried to catch up with his work. Neither of them were speaking to each other, since Harry was in one of his moods and Bill was too busy and too lost in his own mind to initiate a conversation.

Bill had gone back to work at the London office of Gringotts about three weeks after moving into Godric's Hollow. As he had expected, his days were filled with paperwork and correspondence that never seemed to end. It had already been close to a month since he had returned and he was just recently able to be caught up. But that was fine. It gave him something to do while he mulled over strange intricacies of living with Remus and the unknown quantities that were Harry and Sirius.

He categorized them that way because of how closed Harry was about his godfather. Remus was more open and more willing to include Bill whenever he was with Sirius. But Harry would always be casually polite about brushing him off. Only when he was alone did he extend the hand of friendship and talk to him as if nothing was between them.

Although he was grateful for the change of scenery and his work to keep him busy, Bill had to wonder whether Harry thought he secretly pitied Sirius. Or worse, had designs on the older man that Harry needed to prevent. The last thought was one he dismissed out of hand, since he had never given any indication that he felt anything more for Sirius than friendship.

Normally, he would have approached Harry or Remus with his concerns, but the tacit tension that seemed to build up between the two men prevented him from so much as breathing a word. Bill couldn't put his finger on when things had started to get so fragile.

At first, things had been awkward, but fine between all of them. Remus and Harry had welcomed him in their own understated ways and he thought nothing of fitting into the household. Sirius had, for a while looked at him as an outsider, but once he had put the pieces in his mind together, had built up a rapport with Bill. One that was mostly based on knowledge of obscure music and literature that neither Remus or Harry felt any interest in.

Bill could only tell that one morning it had all changed. There was a thin barrier between Harry and Remus and somehow it was concentrated on him and Sirius. It was as if lines had been drawn and Harry was moving towards one side while Remus was choosing the other.

And Bill wasn't sure exactly where he and Sirius stood.

That was why he had taken all his work and gone outside to the porch. Although the wood was starting to make his arse go numb half-way through his work, he didn't dare step inside. Somehow, Harry and Remus's silent displeasure had a strange way of seeping into the walls and rooms of the house. Doors were no protection from it. At all.

Bill only gritted his teeth and occasionally got up and walked around the back-yard before settling into another round of work. He was about two-thirds through his work when Harry had appeared after unceremoniously slamming the back-door shut. Bill looked up briefly to see Harry giving him an undecipherable look before plunking himself down in the far corner of the porch and lit up yet another one of those fucken fags that seemed to materialize out of nowhere when Harry was stressed or pensive.

At the smell of the spicy smoke, Bill seriously debated going inside and finishing his work in relative comfort at the dinner table. He really hated those damned fags, but his work was practically almost done. If he could hold out a bit longer, he could go to his room and hopefully avoid Remus, who would probably give him the same odd look that Harry had given him.

The idea was quickly snuffed when he felt those burning eyes upon him. Turning his head as casually as he could, Bill was unnerved by the sheer intensity and calculation in those fathomless green eyes. Suppressing a shiver, Bill forced himself to gather his materials at a sedate pace. He could now understand why Harry had the reputation as being one of the most feared Aurors in England. That glance was enough to make him feel like he had to be away from Harry. Fast.

Once he had gathered up all his parchments and scrolls, he gave Harry a small nod before letting himself back into the house. Once he was inside, he decided to go straight to his room lest he run into Remus and get creeped out twice in one night. Once was more than enough for him and he wanted to keep it that way.

Bill thought he had managed very well when he neither came across Remus or Sirius as he went to his room. He changed his mind when he was heading to the bathroom and heard a couple of thumps and muffled crashes coming from one of the rooms. Frowning, Bill pulled out his wand and went to Sirius's room, where he thought the noise had originated from.

He was about to push the door wide open when he heard Remus's voice ask an indistinct question. Taking a deep breath and flattening himself against the wall, he pushed the door open enough to see in the room. And had to bite his lip when he saw Remus lying on top of Sirius, both men too intent on the kiss and stripping each other's clothing to notice they had a spectator.

Swearing under his breath, Bill quickly forced the door shut and rushed to the bathroom. Once he had locked the door, he braced himself on the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. _Well,_ he thought as he smiled grimly at his scarred reflection, _at least now I know what the tension's about. _

The smile disappeared when he thought about Harry and the piercing gaze he had received from him.

_Well, most of it at least. _Bill thought before reaching for his toothbrush and the toothpaste.

He wasn't going to think about anything at that moment. There was no way he was stepping into that minefield. At least not unless he didn't have another choice in the matter.

-O-

Ron sat in the coffee shop, a cup of some fancy whipped cream confection in front of him. Harry had asked him to come to the shop they both frequented when they were on the same shift and he was more than happy to oblige. He was eager to have a conversation without interruptions with his best mate and also to ask about his older brother. He missed Bill and occasionally regretted having thrown him out. But Ron knew that he had done the right thing to save his brother. In the long run, it would be worth it for all of them.

That was the main reason why he agreed to meet with Harry, even though he had no desire to be sociable at that moment. He needed news of his brother. Even a small crumb of information would be fine. For that, he was willing to deal with obnoxious servers and buy shit coffee.

Ron thought he had timed everything perfectly so that he would spend as little time as possible talking to anyone that wasn't Harry. Unfortunately, he had arrived too early and had had to deal with the too perky server, hence the reason why he had ended up with the frothy concoction. He honestly didn't know why he had purchased the drink. He drank his coffee with just a touch of milk and sugar and even that was a rare occurrence. Most of the time he drank down the tea his mum always seemed to have on hand. He supposed that the little exotic looking girl behind the counter was probably the reason why he ended up with the drink.

He snickered at the thought, then stopped. When had he started noticing women like that again? Frowning, Ron started thinking back as he looked for an exact point in time where it had started. Why, he didn't really know. He was more or less confused about him taking notice of a pretty girl and also that it had felt normal. That there was no pain attached to it.

No image of brown eyes and unruly hair superimposed on it. No memory of laughter or a voice silenced too soon.

Ron blinked and looked down at the drink. He noticed dimly that the cream was melting down the sides, but he didn't lift the spoon. He was too sunk into his own thoughts to notice it.

He wasn't depressed, as he thought he would have been in those early days following her death. Rather, he was amazed and clumsily surprised that his heart had healed to that extent. It was true that morning when he had passed the book store that he had looked for her. It was true that it was disappointing and sad that when he had realized she wasn't there. But it wasn't a crushing blow. Not any longer.

Ron slouched in his chair and started to stir the cream into his drink, studying it as if he had just seen it for the first time. So intent was he on his stirring that he failed to notice when Harry slid into the chair across from him.

"You ever going to drink that or what?" Ron looked up and grinned at his best mate.

"I wanted to wait until the cream had melted." He replied as he finally took a sip. Despite his earlier reservations, it wasn't bad. A tad cloying, perhaps. But it was better than he expected.

Harry watched him and took up his own drink, a Chai latte that made Ron's nose twitch at the spicy scent floating from the cup.

"Never took you for the exotic drink type." Ron commented thoughtfully as he took in his mate's appearance. Even though they saw each other quite frequently during their work-days, Ron was still taken aback by the changes in Harry's appearance and demeanour.

The inky hair was streaked with strands of white and messy as ever. It had been fairly long during the war and after, but was now just a little past his shoulders. The clothes were all from the skate-boarding shops and were brightly splashed with logos. The body was still thin and sinewy, the limbs loose and awkward still. It looked like neither of them was ever going to get past the coltish stage of their youth.

At least Harry didn't look like he was going to trip over his own legs whenever he took a step, Ron mused as he studied the face that had matured to an angular handsomeness. Peace was more than good for Harry, Ron thought as he saw the harsh gauntness that had been Harry's mask for the war softened and filled out with a normal life and good food. He looked like his father, that was true. But his father would never have that heavy wisdom in his eyes. Nor would he have that sardonic quirk to his mouth that never seemed to leave Harry's lips, no matter what. At least Harry had finally been able to step out of the shadow of his father. He was finally his own man.

The silence was broken by small talk that soon progressed into work talk and then into the Quidditch standings and which team had the better chance of winning the cup. Although the conversation was animated and filled with laughter, Ron quickly felt a small bit of tension running through it. He stared at Harry again and wondered what was going on. His suspicions were confirmed when Harry broke off a comment abruptly and just stared at Ron.

He hated to admit it, but he was looking at his friend the way that he wanted to look at Bill.

It didn't help matters that Ron had inherited the good looks that had been torn from Bill by Fenrir Greyback. In fact, now that Harry was really looking, he could see that Ron had unconsciously moulded himself to be his oldest brother. Ron's hair was long, but loose and his clothes (despite being bought from Oxfam) were what was in style and what younger men where paying loads of Galleons to acquire.

He smiled and took another sip of his drink. Maybe he should just break up with Remus and run off with Ron, he thought idly as he swallowed the spicy mouthful. He had to laugh for even thinking that way about his best mate. Not only would it be awkward, but as far as he knew, Ron was straight. And had been madly in love with Hermione as well. He was probably as broken up over her death as Bill was.

As he thought that, he lowered his cup and looked carefully into Ron's face and noticed that he didn't have the same quietly haunted expression as Bill did. In fact, the blue eyes were glimmering softly, looking almost like they did when they had first met.

He wanted to ask Ron what had happened. What had changed, but didn't dare say anything lest he was wrong and upset him. He tried to say something else, but the words dried up in his throat and he couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing. So it was quite a relief when Ron finally finished his coffee with the melted cream and asked how Bill was.

"Better." Harry replied promptly, as he put his mug down on the table and stared at Ron's thin, long fingered hands.

"He's not going out and drinking all the time any more. Or doing Hash?" Ron asked, making Harry look up and shake his head.

"He's gone back to work. He's doing good. Maybe it would be time for him to leave." Harry found himself saying to Ron, who blinked in shock at him. An awkward silence fell between them that was finally broken by Ron, who said the only thing he thought that would help at that time.

"I'm sorry." Ron apologized, making Harry look at him in mute shock.

"I know, that you had your own demons to deal with. Not to mention Sirius and Remus-" He broke off and bit his lip, making him look like a vulnerable child yet again. He looked away then looked back at Harry, his eyes suspiciously bright as he then continued. "He was killing himself...inch by inch and I couldn't do anything to help him. I didn't want to lose more of my family. I just wanted to keep my brother safe. That was-"

"No, Ron. It's fine." Harry interrupted him quickly. "It's not about the situation or the house. I wasn't thinking when I said that, Ron. Not clearly at least." he admitted in a low voice.

"Then why did you say it?" Ron asked, his eyes losing the glassy sheen and going dark blue, a sure sign of his temper rising. That sign was enough for Harry to get over his reticence and finally speak all of the half-formed and half-hashed out thoughts and emotions that had been plaguing him since Bill had arrived.

"I think because I'm attracted to your brother and I don't want to impose my feelings on him when he's still grieving for Fleur." Harry replied, his voice harsh and low as he finally admitted what had been plaguing him night and day for close to two months.

"And you're going out with Remus." Ron whispered once it had all sunk in. Harry. Liked Bill. While he was in love with Remus.

Harry nodded miserably. "I think Remus is starting to suspect something too. We've been edgy. Really edgy. I know Bill has started to notice and Sirius will soon. I don't want to fuck everything up, Ron! I don't want for Remus to get betrayed and for Bill to think he's intruding and for Sirius to start blaming himself! I can't hurt all of them, but I can't fucken help this and I don't know what to do! I just don't."

Ron sat silently through the outburst. He really felt for Harry's predicament. For Harry, all the shit he had had to put up with had only been worthwhile if he had the hope of having a family to cherish and protect after it was all said and done. Ron also knew that Harry would do anything in his power to preserve that family once he had found it. And right now, the only way he saw to do that was to deny what he felt. Which would only cause problems between him and Remus in the long run. Especially if things were already brewing under the surface as he had already said they had.

To Ron, the answer was simple. If Bill was having that much of an effect on him, he should simply break it off with Remus and go with Bill which was what he told Harry.

"It's not that simple, Ron." Harry answered quietly, his face flushing a splotchy pink as he spoke.

"And why the bloody fuck not?" Ron asked him, not understanding why Harry was so keen on making everything twice as difficult for himself.

"I love Remus, Ron. And I have feelings for Bill and I can't see myself making a decision between them. I can't. I thought about it long and hard and it's not the answer. I know it isn't."

Ron's mouth fell open at that calm and sure statement. He knew that tone of voice. He knew that when Harry spoke in those deliberate and measured tones that he was deadly serious and there was no power on earth to make him change his mind.

"Shit." He finally swore once Harry was done talking. "You never did take the easy road out, did you?"

Harry stared at him for several moments after he had spoken, his eyes narrowed in calculation as he wondered whether Ron was taking the piss at his expense. Once he had decided that Ron was indeed serious, he smiled wryly and shook his head.

"No. I suppose I never do, huh?"

Ron only shrugged his shoulders at that. There wasn't anything else he could really say about that topic.

Harry had made up his mind. He could only stand back and watch as he did what he felt he had to do.

-O-

Remus was sitting with his back against the headboard of Sirius's bed. He checked the alarm clock on the night-stand and sighed. Harry would be home in an hour. That would be plenty of time for him to clean up and get dressed. Sirius would have to make do with a short bath today. There was no way around it.

He stretched and rotated his neck, pleased when he heard a few crunching pops before he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. Working quickly, he filled the tub only half-way and poured a spicy citrusy bubble bath into the water. Satisfied with the arrangement, he then walked back to Sirius's room and was glad to find him awake and sitting up.

"We need to take a bath, Sirius." Remus said neutrally. There's nothing else that needs to be said. Sirius understood that much and let Remus get him to the bathroom and the bath.

Although arduous, Remus preferred to get Sirius into the bath without any magic. He wasn't as skilled as Harry was with his levitation spells. Not when he was still dealing with the emotions that bathing his ex-lover like a child brought up in him.

It wouldn't have been so hard if it hadn't been for the simple cursed fact of memory. Remus still had the memories of sex in a bath-tub filled with Ocean scented bath oil. Or long showers made even longer because of blow jobs and rim jobs.

Those memories, no matter how many he had tried to bury, always swam back up when he was positioning Sirius into the tub and was climbing in behind him. He sometimes wasn't able to handle them so well and would hold onto Sirius as if it would keep him from drowning in the sea of his turbulent emotions. If Sirius noticed, he never gave indication of it. So they pretended that it was all normal and the routine was held.

Remus would take Sirius back into his bedroom and wordlessly place the catheter into his bladder before putting him into a fresh diaper. A pair of black track trousers followed by socks and trainers, a t-shirt and a jumper if the weather was too cool and Sirius would finally be dressed. Once the mid-length hair was combed, he'd carry Sirius to his wheelchair. Once the other man was situated properly, Remus would go into the room he shared with Harry and will himself to not remember. To not cry. But it didn't always work out that way.

Remus had nearly resigned himself to being nothing more than his former lover's caretaker. There was no way that he would ever rekindle a relationship with Sirius. Not when he was in love with Harry. Not when he couldn't help remembering how it was all those years ago. He didn't want to stumble blindly into something new with Sirius and have all those memories tainted by either pity or unfair comparisons. So Remus treated Sirius like he had in the past before they had realized how deep their feelings ran and after his bout of depression, would lose himself in Harry's flesh and the cycle would continue.

Remus honestly had thought that he had succeeded in keeping everything in check. He was positive that they would reach some kind of understanding that would eventually make the memories fade and eventually stay where they belonged. In the past. It would have worked, he was positive of it.

Except for the fact that Sirius Black, despite all adversity, could be as cunning as hell when he wanted something. Remus still wasn't sure how Sirius had managed to slip past his defences. He only knew that the kiss had come seemingly from nowhere when he had finished helping Sirius dress. One minute he had just finished adjusting the hems of Sirius's trousers and was about to stand up and the next his lips were pressed against Sirius's. How Sirius had managed to get his fingers tangled in Remus's hair, neither of them would ever find out.

Nor did they care, since that kiss had brought the thinly veiled memories and emotions bursting through the surface. Remus had then thrown all caution to the wind and had wrapped his arms around Sirius and pulled him out of the chair. They landed heavily on the ground, but the sound didn't make anyone come running, which was a good thing because Remus knew neither of them could stop.

Quickly, with a combination of spells and their hands, they got naked. Remus then took the upper hand and kissed a trail of wet kisses down Sirius's body, not caring that it was paralyzed flesh below the nipples.

He licked and sucked at the planes and hollow of the thin, pale body until he got to the cock that lay curled up like a sleeping sea-horse in the nest of black curls. Remus gave it a few licks and nearly let out a sob when it stirred sluggishly and began to respond to each lick, suck and gentle bite he gave it.

He knew that Sirius was enjoying it when he heard the breathing quicken and the long thin fingers tightened in his hair so much that it nearly made him cry out. Encouraged by the positive reception, he re-doubled his efforts until Sirius let out one of those strange strangled sighs and his mouth was suddenly filled with the bitter-salty taste of Sirius's come.

Once they had somewhat cleaned up, Sirius had returned the favour, giving him a hand-job that had left him dizzy with both the release, but also the memory of having had done the exact same thing years ago in a too warm bed under too heavy covers. It felt right. Like slipping into well-worn and well-loved jumper. It felt like coming home.

That was when he had started crying into Sirius's shoulder. When he realized that was where he belonged and despite being in love with someone else, Sirius was home.

After that, it was as if the flood-gates to something had opened. It was subtle seduction, an art that both of them were well versed with. It helped that Harry was too busy brooding over something to notice and Bill himself was working far too much. But despite all those advantages, they never got careless.

That was why Remus was quick about getting them both clean and Sirius fixed up before Harry or Bill came home and even caught a hint of what was going on.

Remus was sure that they had escaped detection once again when Harry had gone outside to smoke and Bill had claimed the dinner table for himself, neither of them paying much attention to the older men.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been so long since all of them had really spent time together that he got careless. Or maybe it was just a need he couldn't deny. Remus wasn't sure. All he knew was that after he had casually brushed his lips against Sirius's ear, he knew he had screwed up. Bill's dark gaze said as much when their eyes met and Remus was instantly afraid that Bill would tell Harry.

After a minute, Bill only shook his head and bent to his work.

Remus gave silent thanks. The illusion would continue.

For now.

_Notes: I was really debating whether to mention whether Sirius would have a catheter and be in diapers or use the handy Deus Ex Machina of having him magically be able to have control over these bodily functions. As you can see, I chose the more realistic way of portraying this problem. Not because I'm some kind of sadist, but rather to show exactly how many aspects of his life have been affected by his torture and that even though we would like things to be magically all right, a lot of people don't get this option. I will write an Interlude where Sirius gets a voice (literally and figuratively) where we find out exactly how he feels about everything around him and how things are in his mind at this point. Cheers and thanks for reading again._


	8. InterludeRebellion Lies

_I am truly stoked to all of you that are reading this still. Thank you kindly. I will try to keep this story fresh and interesting. Cheers!_

_Disclaimer-As Always, not mine. JKR/Bloomsbury/WB et all own the rights. Prose is mine. Cheers! _

_Interlude-Rebellion (Lies)_

_It's black. All black. Almost like velvet. It feels that way too. Soft and heavy and plush against me. Against all of me. I don't know if I want it to remain that way or let it stay._

_It's broken occasionally by red sparks and orange lines. Only if I struggle. If I'm still, the pain is like a faint static in the background. Almost bearable. Almost forgettable._

_Loops. Loops. Loops. Red circles and blue loops in the blackness. It almost reminds me of a painting I saw a girl working on in the park when I was seventeen. The only thing missing is the white. Oh wait. It's here now. Stark against the canvas. _

_I see it. I finally see it. But why do my eyes hurt? I want to open them. They hurt._

_Someone whispers in my ear and I think it's Remus. He would do that sometimes. But it's not his voice. Too high. Too childish. James?_

_Hands on my hair now. They cut it off. I heard the scissors. I hope it's not too short. Look like a prat otherwise. I wonder what they do with the rest of it. Do they make wreaths? I wonder if I can make a wreath of my own hair. I wonder if Remus would like it. He always said he liked my hair. I haven't given him a present in a long time. I wonder if he still reads Camus..._

_I don't want to get up, James. Stop asking. I'm tired. The bed is warm. I did all the homework. _

_Why are you so eager to go to the field? Evans isn't there. She's not going to be impressed either way. If any of us get her, it would be Remus. I'm sure of it. But that won't happen. He's too shy. I don't like red-heads. If Remus was a girl or had a sister, maybe. He's got everything that I want._

_He's with James now. I can smell James's scent on him. It's there, light and soft. Almost hidden by his own scent of cinnamon and cloves. Why do both of them always have to smell like cloves?_

Sirius jerked awake at the thought and looked around blearily. It wasn't his room in Grimmauld. Nor was it the Gryffindor dormitory. Certainly not Azkaban either. He closed his eyes and tried to get his bearings. There was no brightness or that tacky blue paint that characterized St. Mungo's. So where the fuck was he?

He raised his head slightly and saw the cherry oak furniture that James-no, Harry. Definitely Harry. James's eyes had never been that brilliantly green ever.-had purchased for him. The paintings and the desk without the matching chair brought him back to his current situation with a sickening jolt. Godric's Hollow. He was back here again. That was probably why he was still having problems getting through the fog. That and the potions that Harry or Remus gave him twice daily.

Sighing softly, he let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. One he did that, his mind continued the frenzied monologue that he would sink into if he didn't concentrate hard enough on keeping the thoughts and memories untangled.

_I'm awake. It's too early for it though. I don't want to be awake. It's not because of the time that I have to spend being up. I can find things to do. I can talk to them. James is here. Funny, I don't recall his eyes being that bright. Maybe they changed colour sometime and I didn't notice._

_I wonder where Lily has gone off to... She did promise to bring back some stew she was making for James and Harry. Moony's somewhat of a cook. I suppose that he has to be, living with me._

_No. She's dead. James is dead. Harry's the one with her eyes. Harry's the one that takes care of everything. Harry's the one that gives me all of those potions and watches so that I don't get ill._

_I wish sometimes that he had left me there. With the darkness and the pain and let me die. I was already close to dying. They whispered it as they worked over me, thinking I was asleep._

_I still don't know why I called out to him. I should have simply remained silent. And died. Left him with good memories. Like James and Lily did._

_I feel the tears at the corners of my eyes and I'm not quite sure who I'm crying for. Myself? Lily? James? Moony? The way things were? I don't know. Maybe I never will._

_I reach up and wipe them away and think back on how when I was a child, I spent many hours looking up at the ceiling of an old house and crying silently. I wonder if this is my punishment for all I did when I was young. To be an adult and to relive the worst parts of my childhood._

_For the third time, I am a prisoner._

_The first time was in Grimmauld Place. I hated that house. I hated not being able to go out and be with other children. I hated my mother. At least my father would ignore us. Mother was the one we had to avoid lest we became the object of her cold affections. She still scares me, that spiteful, proud woman. I know inherited that cruel streak from her. I didn't learn to be gentle until I went to school. That was freedom. The only freedom I've ever had._

_I wanted it to last. But I made too many mistakes. I can see that now. That was why I was in my second prison. Twelve years of fading in and out and recalling those coloured swirls of paint as she worked them into the dark canvas. I only remembered the greys. _

_I nearly forgot the real colours until I finally escaped. I saw it. Finished and hanging in someone's living room as I stumbled by. I must have cried, not with sadness, but with relief. It did exist. I wasn't crazy. Things would work out. Eventually._

_If...there are too many ifs already in my life. If I had been more clear-headed. If I had tuned Snape out. If I hadn't fallen into their trap. If I had only kept quiet. If only the break in my spine had been three inches lower. If I hadn't called out to Harry._

_Now I'm a prisoner. I don't know whether being held behind walls is worse than being trapped in your own flesh. With no ways to flee. No way to voice anything. Nothing. A sentence that can't be broken unless the rules of man and god are circumvented. _

Sirius sighed and opened his eyes. He figured that he might as well amuse himself until there was someone to help him get ready for the day. His thoughts just went into an endless moebious strip that was possibly driving him more into the fog he was trying to escape. He wondered idly whether if they had at least granted him the mercy of having a voice that he would have been able to keep more of his tenuous sanity.

Sirius had been told by Harry that Pomfrey as well as others in the wizarding community were looking for spells to counteract the ones that had stolen his voice from him. He wanted to hope that it was a possibility, to have his voice back. Just that would be enough to make living a bit more tolerable. But too many things had been taken from him and he wasn't willing to even entertain the possibility. It would probably drive him to even deeper despair and then he would be able to fulfil the fears that he saw in Remus's and Harry's eyes.

Sirius wished he had learned more of the nuances of the sign language they were drilling in his head to assure them it wasn't true. He was there. Just having problems unravelling all of the memories and thoughts inside. Although most of his body had recovered from the shocks it had received, his mind was still working on that part of the equation. But the potions and the lack of his voice was slowing it down. Not to mention the lack of being seen as a sexual being in his own right.

Sirius was finding it hard to come to terms that although he was loved, he wasn't seen with desire from anyone. Of course he would have been utterly perturbed by the possibility of Harry seeing him like that, since he was Jameses son. It did hurt though, that neither Remus or even Bill looked at him that way. If it had come from Bill, he had to admit it would have been more or less flattering and an ego boost. It truly hurt though, when nothing came from Remus.

Remus, the man that initiated what was going to become a constant and complicated relationship that he never believed would have ever been twisted and broken. Or ended. He had firmly believed that nothing would ever keep them apart from each other for long. If he was honest with himself, he knew that was part of the reason why he had reached out to Harry.

He wanted to see Remus. It didn't matter how. But Sirius was determined that he would. That was the main reason why he had refused to sink into his depression when he had woken up and found himself crippled and voiceless. It was true that he loved his godson, but Remus would always be a part of him that he simply couldn't turn his back to.

Sirius had nearly buried himself into his mind when reality had finally set in. Remus was still the same sweet, passive aggressive and infuriating werewolf he had fallen for. But Remus was no longer his to claim. Nor was he interested in Sirius. That much was apparent. Especially when he took care to touch Sirius with such cold detachment whenever they were together.

Sirius tried to take it in stride and had tried to forge a stronger connection with Harry and then later on, Bill. The connection had helped him endure Remus's professional touches and his detachment. He didn't like it, but Sirius figured it was yet another thing he was going to have to live with.

That was until the strange tension appeared between Remus and Harry. He had tried to ignore it, but Remus was getting distracted and the touches were more often than not echoes of intimacy from the past. Intimacy that Sirius craved badly and wasn't willing to stop.

Sirius supposed that was the reason why he tricked Remus into kissing him. He had thought he would have received a diatribe on why it was all so wrong and that they should stop. But Remus did nothing like that. Instead, he had proceeded to give Sirius the best blowjob he could recall in years.

Sirius grinned at the memory. Things had escalated from there and the memories, despite being tainted with some of his self-conciousness, were sweet. It was nice to feel wanted again. Especially by the first love that he had thought irrevocably lost.

Sirius would have lain there, getting more and more lost in his memories, but the door to his room had opened. He turned his head and was almost childishly pleased to see it was Remus coming to help him get up for the day.

Smiling a welcome, he pushed the irritation he felt at being helped to sit up in bed. Remus was with him. There was at that point, all he wanted to need. He could still appreciate the small blessings fickle fate had chosen to throw at him.


	9. Bullets

_As Always, do apologize for the delay, but I've had some RL issues to deal with as well as major writer's block. Kudos and many thanks to all that are reading and glad you're enjoying the story. Disclaimer-Don't own, Don't sue. JKR/Bloomsbury/WB et al own. No blood from a turnip and all that. Enjoy. _

_Chapter 8-Bullets_

Harry was angry at himself for not having seen it sooner. He knew, the minute that he walked into the house after a week long assignment that it had started. What the healers had warned them about when Sirius was still unconscious. They had said that Sirius would be frustrated and angry with both his limitations and the assistance he would require to do even simple tasks. It would be worse with Sirius because he hadn't a voice. They were warned to expect bursts of violence and even self-harm until Sirius learned to accept the changes in his life. Once that happened, the outbursts would lessen in number, but the potential for them to occur again would always be there.

Harry had listened to all the instructions and had promptly pushed them to the back of his mind. He didn't want to think that Sirius would get to that point. It was true that the Sirius he knew was a proud and head-strong man, but Harry didn't believe that Sirius was capable of throwing tantrums.

Still, he kept an eye on Sirius and even though it was a necessary evil, he hated himself for it. Harry didn't want to keep watch on his Godfather as if he was some recalcitrant child. The mere thought of treating Sirius with such little dignity made him feel awkward and ill. But logically, he knew it had to be done for Sirius's sake.

Harry had decided to back off from watching Sirius so closely after a month had passed without much incident. Apart from a few shoves when he thought he couldn't find James, Sirius was relatively calm. Harry assumed that things would go that smoothly all the time and had more or less stopped watching Sirius. He had to admit that the whole potential mess with Remus and Bill had also influenced his decision. Sirius was fine, so Harry devoted his energies to his own love life and his work.

Harry supposed that was why he felt the burden of the guilt when he had come back to the house and found broken dishes on the kitchen floor and Remus hastily bandaging a slash on his own hand while Sirius sat slumped in his wheel-chair and his face was a deep red . He was also avoiding looking at Remus. For his part, Remus's gaze was fixed on the gauze he was winding around his hand, his expression neutral. Only his eyes gave a hint of the sadness he felt and Harry felt like his heart cracked a bit in his chest when he saw that emotion in his lover's amber eyes.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, making both men start at the sound of his voice. Sirius gave him a flat look before training his gaze on his trousers. Remus smiled faintly at Harry.

"Just a bit of broken crockery. I got my hand cut up when I started to clean up. I'm nearly-"

"It's done." Harry interrupted him tersely as he waved his wand and immediately cleaned up the mess and repaired the dishes."Now can you tell me what happened?"

Sirius let out an impatient sigh and clumsily manoeuvred himself out of the kitchen. Harry frowned and looked at Remus, who shook his head.

"It wasn't a fight, Harry. If that's what you're thinking." Remus said quietly.

"Why are there broken dishes then?" Harry asked as he picked up the now mended dishes and put them on the cupboard.

"Because Sirius is frustrated, Harry. He has no real way of communicating that. I can't say that I blame him for not having done something like this sooner." Remus replied.

"Why did he get frustrated?" Harry asked once he had finished with his self-appointed task.

Remus didn't reply for several minutes and when he did, it was in a half-choked voice that Harry didn't associate with him..

"He's lonely, Harry. He's not been with anyone since he was at Grimmauld place. Living here with me has brought all that back. At first he was too muddled to even think about that. But now that he has regained his lucidity, he wants that aspect of his life back."

"He wants to have a relationship with you then?" Harry asked incredulously. Remus bit his lip and nodded. Harry laughed shortly to that.

"How do you feel about him wanting you again?" Harry asked flatly. Remus' mouth opened and closed soundlessly at the toneless question.

"Happy. Relieved. But also sad. I have memories of him from the past. How he was when he was very young to how he was at Grimmauld...it hurts to see him like that. I'm afraid that if anything were to happen between us, it would just hurt him in the long run."

"But you have considered it." Harry stated flatly.

"That's not a fair statement Harry." Remus replied and turned away. But as far as Harry was concerned, the answered mattered. And he was tired of pussy-footing around the issue.

"It's not, but I need to know, Remus. You know as well as I do that we can't ignore this issue. Not if we want to be at odds and butting heads with each other every single minute of the day."

"I don't want to talk about this Harry. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is closed. Sirius and I-"

"Don't do that, Remus. Don't. It's not fair for either him or I for you to do that. I'm not going to hate you if you think the right thing to do is to go with him." Harry replied harshly, his eyes going dark as he spoke. He wasn't obliged to like it, but if Remus needed the extra push in making the right decision, he would do it.

"It would be that easy for you to let me go then? After-"

"I'm not letting you go, Dammit. Don't make it sound like some kind of sacrifice. It's not. I'd rather share you with him if it means that he's going to get better. Playing the martyr is not going to make any of us happier. It's better if we do it this way."

Remus took a deep breath and stared at Harry, who was flushed and had his jaw set stubbornly.

"Look Harry. I know that we all are concerned about Sirius's well-being, but this decision...it's a big step. We can't just jump into it without really thinking it through first. It's hard enough maintaining a relationship with two people. But three? There are many different dynamics to consider here."

Harry shook his head stubbornly.

"I know. But the more we let the situation stand like this, the more things are going to degenerate. Sirius isn't going to get his voice back. Nor is he ever going to walk again. Or turn into Padfoot. It's true that we have been treating him like patient. If he can have some sort of happiness with you and I...what's the problem?"

"You might change your mind. Or be jealous of the bond we-"

"And what about what we have, Remus? You think it isn't strong enough?" Harry challenged.

"I don't know Harry. You seem to be looking at Bill more and more often and not in a simply platonic way." Remus replied evenly, making Harry blanch briefly before his face turned red.

"That's neither here or there, Remus. We are talking about Sirius and you and I-"

"It has everything to do with us and you know it, Harry. It's the same as me telling you that you should go for Bill and we can still keep our relationship intact." Remus challenged him. Harry threw his hands up and glared at Remus.

"So should we just go about our separate ways? You and Sirius, me and Bill?" Harry asked harshly.

Remus looked at him with an even, cool stare that made Harry inwardly shiver. The eyes were a flat gold and they looked all too wolf-like for his own liking. It was as if he was prey and Remus was assessing whether he was worth giving a killing blow to. The stare lasted for a few moments, but it was enough to unnerve Harry even after Remus lowered his eyes.

"Why not? It seems we're already divided along those lines at this point." Remus replied as he walked out of the kitchen and left Harry standing there with mixed emotions on the whole situation. Emotions that he didn't want to sort out at that moment.

He swore softly and went out on the porch to smoke. Maybe he would be able to figure out something there. He had to before his family fell apart once again because of that bastard and his zealots.

Even after the grave, Voldemort managed to cock things up for Harry.

-O-O-O-

Bill leaned back in his chair and stretched out his shoulders. He rotated his neck a few times and smiled in relief when he heard a few crunching pops follow the action. He missed working in Egypt among the tombs, the physical labour of it and the thrill of breaking the curses and bringing back gold. He missed it. A whole lot more than he was willing to admit, but he knew it wasn't the time yet. He knew if he went back, he would just hide within the silence and the work. He had come that far at least.

At Remus's tactful advice, he had been going to visit a counsellor at St. Mungo's on a regular basis. Although he had balked at first, he had to admit that when he finally had gone it had helped him start sorting out his feelings and come to some kind of terms with his grief. It still hurt too much sometimes, to remember how Fleur was. Sometimes it scared him that he would catch himself forgetting what she looked like. Which would lead to panic attacks as he fought to piece her image and her mannerisms without the aid of pictures. But those instances were becoming less and less frequent as time passed and he was more or less glad about it. He always reminded himself that at least he had the memories and pictures and it had been a good relationship.

Bill figured that once he had managed to get himself back to speed, he'd be able to go back to Egypt and work in the tombs. But the more he thought about it, he didn't want to leave Harry, Remus and Sirius. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but they had bonded into some kind of family. A family that was thoroughly bizarre and unconventional, but a family nonetheless.

Even when dynamics between them were shifted and aligned in a dramatic fashion (as was the case when Remus and Harry had finally decided to stop their silent battle and call it a day. Which then left Remus and Sirius free to pursue a relationship.) and had made things tense for a while, it was home. It was never going to be the same kind of closeness that he had with his own family, of course. Nothing was ever going to replace that. The big difference was that it was a _chosen_ intimacy, rather than a forced one. It was also his own. In a way, he had achieved what he had set out to do with Fleur: Create his own family.

Although his mum might look a bit askance at the fact, it was true. The bonds were there and he was finding it hard to simply up and leave. He felt comfortable there. No one ragged at him unnecessarily. Nor did they mind when he had to sit up at night drinking coffee and scribbling some curse breaking ideas down. It was peace, of sorts.

But there was of course, something lacking. He knew what it was. Had seen it mirrored in Harry and Sirius's eyes. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to take that step.

As he pondered the pros and cons of taking that last step, a pile of parchment was dropped on his desk.

"Merlin! Why did you do that for?" he bellowed after he straightened himself out.

"I like watching you jump." Finnegan, one of Ron's former schoolmates drawled out. Bill only glared at him and his reply. He really did like Finnegan, but sometimes his sense of humour was really off.

"Right. Well, we got a request from St. Mungo's and the powers that be decided that you'd be the best one to handle it." Seamus finally explained after an awkward silence.

"What kind of request?" Bill asked his younger colleague as he began skimming though the pile.

"Dunno mate. All I know is that they requested your personal services as one of the best curse-breakers on-staff. I just deliver the messages." Seamus replied cheerfully.

"St. Mungo's, huh? I bet Griphook was thrilled to get that request."

"Well, it is for a good sum. Or as he likes to say, "A good cause." Seamus replied, his blue eyes lighting up mischievously as he made quotation marks with his fingers when he said the last phrase.

Bill raised an eyebrow and they both laughed at the comment.

"So when am I supposed to start this request?" He asked Seamus.

"In two days time. They want you to familiarize yourself with the cases you'll be helping out with. They won't overload you, but I'm sure they will do their best to get their money's worth out of you." Seamus replied before he gave Bill a ludicrous salute and walked away.

Bill snickered softly at Seamus before he fully turned his attention to the parchments before him. He skipped over the introductory letter, since it was nothing but well-placed platitudes. Tossing it aside, he saw that he was faced with seven thick files all tied up with twine at the corners. His interest perked up by the files, he flipped through the first file to find a meticulously written medical report. Despite himself, he couldn't help the slight twitch when he read the name "Malfoy, Draco." scrawled at the top in peacock blue ink. He read through it quickly and his mouth tightened as he read Malfoy's symptoms and the cause of them. A complex curse that no one in the medical field had heard of or had experience with whatsoever. And St. Mungo's was counting on his experience as a curse breaker to find some kind of palliative that the healers and medi-witches could then work off to create a cure.

Bill sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he reached over for a quill and parchment. Listlessly, he jotted down some possible breaks before moving onto the next file. Malfoy had been cursed by several curses originating in the Balkans. He would have to do some research in that area. Letting out a muttered curse, he reached for another file. He hoped that maybe if he saw something different he would get some kind of hint as to where to start.

But after the fourth file, Bill was positive that St. Mungo's had wasted their money. He had several sheets of parchment full with possible beginnings, but nothing concrete. Someone less skilled would have probably ended the search right there, but that wasn't his style. He had been given a job and he was going to see it through no matter what the circumstances.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed away the fourth file that had quickly proven to be a dead end and looked at the fifth one. His hands twitched slightly and he made a silent promise to himself that it would be the last one he would look at. He was already about an hour late for supper and he didn't want to completely miss curry night. He reached over for the last one, but once he had read the name at the top, it dropped onto his desk.

Bill looked at the file and the name scrawled out in a careless hand in thick black ink and grabbed a handful of clean parchment. As he got to work, he hoped that they would at least save him some curry and naan bread. He was going to need something good after his shift ended.

-O-O-

When he came home, tired and yawning so widely his jaw cracked, he was surprised to see Harry sitting outside. He didn't have his perpetual lit fag with him and was instead reading the paper as he sat comfortably on the steps as was his wont.

"What are you doing up still?" Bill asked him as he covered his mouth to stifle a yawn. Harry looked up from his paper and grinned slightly.

"I should be asking you the same thing. By the way, the curry, rice and naan bread are all in the oven. Don't make too much noise. Sirius and Remus are in bed already."

Bill nodded and sank down beside Harry. Although he was hungry, he didn't feel like going in just yet. His head was still swimming from the file and his task at work and he needed to sit and clear his head.

"Hard day?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence between them.

"Yeah, but interesting." Bill replied tiredly.

"Oh? They're going to send you back to Egypt again?" Harry asked, his voice too casual as he spoke the words. Bill gave him an odd look and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah. I'm on loan to St. Mungo's. Can't talk about anything else though, Harry." Bill said, quickly ending that conversation thread.

"Got it. Are you going to go in and eat?" Harry asked, totally unfazed by Bill abruptly ending the conversation. As an Auror, he understood how important it was to maintain strict professional confidentiality. So he only shrugged as he turned back to his paper.

"Soon. I just need to clear my head a bit. Mind if I sit here for a bit?" Bill asked Harry, who shook his head and put down his paper.

"Nah. It's your house as much as mine, Bill. Go ahead. I'm not even going to smoke or glare at the hedges this time either." Harry joked, making Bill crack as a smile. In the first few weeks after Remus and Harry had split up, it had been Harry's habit to sit outside and glower at the shrubbery. That had all stopped when one day in a fit of spontaneous anger, he had set a section of it on fire. Luckily it had been containable and Harry had snapped out of his mood. Now things had gone back to flowing smoothly, but the hedge wasn't forgotten by anyone.

"I wasn't worried about the hedge this time." Bill replied carelessly as he lay down on the steps. He shifted about a few times to accommodate his tall, lanky frame before he finally settled on a spot. Once he was comfortable, He then looked up at the sky, his eyes on the stars above them.

"What were you worried about then?" Harry asked some time later when the silence had gotten too thick for him to remain silent.

"Isn't it obvious Potter?" Bill replied softly, his eyes dark when he finally turned to look at Harry.

"Oh."


	10. Mr Ambulance Driver

_Chapter 9-Mr Ambulance Driver_

Bill scribbled furiously on the parchment that lay in front of him, his eyes never leaving the dusty, mouldy text in front of his nose. He had just stumbled upon several pages that made long and detailed mentions of a rarely mentioned _sejungere_ curse that he was positive had been used on Sirius. It was something that a death eater wouldn't be able to resist despite the extremely complicated casting of it.

Muttering under his breath, he pushed that text away and reached out for another one that he was sure had mentioned another curse that could have been used in conjunction with the one he had just written notes about when his hand brushed against a warm and long fingered hand.

The subsequent yelp brought him out of his thoughts and nearly made him fall out of his chair. Looking up, he saw that Remus was staring at him, his face a stoic mask. Sirius too, was looking up from his work. His eyes though were mere grey slits in his face as he watched the scene in front of him.

"Shit! Sorry!" Bill apologized when he had calmed himself down from the shock of touching living flesh rather than the dry parchment of old books.

"It's fine. You simply startled me." Remus replied before returning back to his work, his face slightly flushed as he kept on reading and making notes.

Bill sighed and rubbed his face. Maybe he needed to take a break from the research. At least for a few minutes. Without a word to the other men, he got up from the table and went over to the fridge and took out a bottle of butterbeer. Uncapping it, he took a swig and walked out of the kitchen and into the backyard, where he sat down at his usual place on the porch.

He tried to watch the clouds floating by and the neighbours go about their business, but his mind simply wouldn't take to the distractions. Not when he still had the image of a flushed Remus making excuses to brush the incident out of sight and mind as quickly as possible.

A month or two ago, he wouldn't have even thought about the implications of his accidentally touching Remus. Or Sirius for that matter. They would have been left alone. Classified as accidents and barely even given a second thought.

But the more time that they spent at the table scouring ancient texts had started to subtly change how they all reacted toward each other. Bill had ignored it for as long as possible. That was the only way to react to the physical and psychological effect of being too close to someone for long periods of time. He had had it happen before, noticing how a colleague's hands looked as she touched a piece of parchment. Or the way that her hair caught the sun. Or how the fabric of a shirt stretched out tight over a male colleague's shoulders. How there would be a subtle and special glow in his eyes when he spent time with them. It would soon pass, Bill knew from experience. But often it wasn't fast enough.

"_It will have to fade fast this time around though." _he muttered to himself before he finally drained the last of the butterbeer and went back inside. There was still work to do.

Or at least that was what he told himself. He didn't want to think about his reactions to Remus and Sirius. He knew that he wouldn't like what he would find at that time.

OO

Bill yawned widely and rubbed at his reddened eyes roughly. He glanced up at the clock and was surprised to see that it was about two in the morning. Grinning slightly, he glanced at the pile of dusty books on the study table before getting up. Stretching, he cracked his vertebrae back into place before turning off the light and walking to his bed. Or more accurately, the bed he was sharing with Harry.

Since they had started researching Sirius's cure, Bill, Remus and Sirius had found close to forty different possibilities for a cure. The only work left at that stage was to figure out exactly in what ratios the curses had been mixed before they were cast and how to best create an anti-dote.

Although it seemed like it was a bleak start, Bill had to force himself to be positive on how far they had gone into their work of this particular case. The other curses, especially the one that had left Malfoy blind, had no possible root. Or cure. He had already, in the six months that he had been working on the cases, had regretfully handed back four of the files with the word "Irreversible" stamped across the cover page.

So the fact that he had made that much headway into this particular one that had been given up as a completely lost cause was a professional trump for him. Not only at St. Mungo's, but at the bank as well. Not that he cared about the accolades. He was doing what he was good at, not to mention that he was going to hopefully get Sirius his voice back.

That was what counted more for him than anything else. Bill knew that even though there were other ways around the silence, it didn't compare to the act of _speaking. _To have his own words rather than have a silent communication through either pen and ink or his hands.

There was also a small part of Bill that wanted for Remus to lose that sad look in his eyes whenever he and Sirius conversed in either sign language or by exchanging notes. Although he knew that Remus was more than pleased to have Sirius back with him, not hearing his lover's voice was taking its toll on him. He wanted for Remus to be as happy as he was with Harry and that was why the lack of sleep and the work, although taxing, was rewarding.

At least that was what he told himself.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and stumbled to the bathroom, where he washed his face and brushed his teeth. Carelessly slapping the switch off, he moved to his room and stripped off his clothes.

Once that task was done, he crawled into bed and spooned against Harry, who sleepily moved against him. Bill grinned in the dark and wrapped his arm around Harry's waist before closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep, where he dreamt about sunshine, snow, woods and...fur.

He woke up with the memory all too vivid in his mind the next morning. For once he was glad that Harry was already gone. He didn't think he could face him. Not when his subconscious was giving him such broad hints.

Bill shook his head when he realized what he was thinking and got out of bed. He had the day off and even though he was grateful that he didn't have to come in to St. Mungo's, he was determined to not slack in his research. They were all too close to a goal for him to want to take a break at that moment. He looked out the window and looked outside, his mind still debating the possibility of a break. It was a waste of time to even think about going out, even though he was sure he hadn't had a leisure moment ever since he had taken on the assignments. Besides, they were complicated cases and there would be enough time for him to relax afterwards. But the fact that it was one of those cool and crisp and altogether perfect days was weakening his resolve to work.

He smiled wryly as he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and proceeded to brush the morning taste out of his mouth. Ginny used to like days like those, he mused to himself. He rinsed his mouth and put his toothbrush away, his mind already made up. Maybe a few hours in the park wouldn't hurt. Maybe Remus and Sirius would be up to it also. Lord knew how long it had been since those two had been out anywhere.

Nodding to himself and humming an old song tunelessly under his breath, Bill got dressed in an old penguin books t-shirt and worn dungarees. He pulled his brush through his hair a few times before being satisfied and made his way to the kitchen where he could smell fresh coffee brewing.

Just as he expected, Sirius was sitting at the table, his attention focused on the newspaper in front of him while Remus finished making the toast and eggs that was to be their breakfast along with the oatmeal that was keeping warm on the stove.

"Morning." He greeted the two older men as he went over to the cupboard and retrieved his favourite cup and filled it with coffee and milk.

"Morning, Bill." Remus greeted softly while Sirius nodded before going back to his paper.

He took a few sips of his coffee before turning to Remus, who placed the food on the already set table and sat down next to Sirius. A few softly spoken words had Sirius putting the paper away and looking up at Remus with an expression that made Bill look into the milk and coffee mixture in his cup. He remembered that look. He had received it from Fleur countless of times and could recognize the signs: the slight widening of the eyes, then the softening of the iris before it was nearly swallowed by the pupil. That was what it looked like physically, but emotionally it felt like an invitation to a private world made just for the both of them. It was a look that only two people deeply in love shared that intentionally or not, shut everyone else around them out as effectively as slamming a door in their faces.

Bill tried to shrug it off. After all, he was sure that he had given Harry that look in the presence of Sirius and Remus before. Not to mention that he had seen it pass between Remus and Harry when he had just come to live with them. He had no right to feel rejected by the exclusion. If anyone had that right, it would have been poor Tonks.

Even he had to wince when he recalled the following days after the battle. He had arrived at the end of the confrontation, but had heard the rest of the tale from Fred.

She hadn't been there when Harry had brought Sirius back. She had been on the western flank and had done her part to dispatch as many Death Eaters as she possibly could have. She had arrived late with that battalion and had immediately gone to search for Remus, who had been lying unconscious in a tent after they had healed his broken and shattered legs. She had stayed by him all that night, going with him to St. Mungo's. But she had left in the night to sleep.

He knew that between the time he had told Remus about Sirius and after Harry had left that Tonks had come by. Fred had been the hallway, waiting for Ron to visit with Harry when they heard the broken, intelligible shouts coming from Remus' room and Tonks leaving in a flurry of robes and long black hair. Remus had walked to the open door and had only watched as she had left. He had only looked at Fred and then at Harry's door pointedly before returning to his room and closing the door. That was how Fred knew, he later told his oldest brother, tactfully ignoring the small wince that had crossed his brother's face when he had received the news.

She hadn't to her credit gone mad or anything overly melodramatic as such. But she had hidden herself away for the longest time and had taken every assignment out of England that she possibly could. Now, nearly a year later did it seem that she had more or less come to terms with Remus stopping anything that they had between each other.

Or at least Bill hoped. Not just for her sake, but for his brother's sake as well. Fred had, sometime during the war, developed an infatuation with Tonks. It had surprised him when he had found that out, since he had always assumed that Fred would never let go of Angelina.

Well, he supposed there was a reason for him never to have taken Divination. Fred and Angelina had tried, but the war had put too much of a strain on them to continue. That had been evident when she had broken down at her mother's death. Fred had tried. He really had. But in the end, he wasn't what she needed.

He took another sip of coffee and made a mental note to visit his brother's shop sometime in the near future. Maybe then he would be able to get more information and perhaps an update on the situation. His mum hadn't mentioned anything the last time that they had talked, but that had been a few months back. Maybe things had changed enough for Fred to have made some kind of headway in pursuing a relationship with Tonks.

Bill hoped his brother was lucky in that endeavour. He also hoped that Tonks would be able to see past the façade of the fool that Fred and George worked hard to cultivate. Fred wasn't exactly drop-dead gorgeous, but he was a good guy. Good enough to make someone a great companion.

He shook himself from his musings and looked up at the clock, his mind busy making plans for the day. Although the desire to stay at home and research was great, the drifting of his mind to other completely unrelated areas had proved that there was no way he would be able to concentrate.

The park was probably the best place to go. At least it would help him clear his mind some.

Once he had decided on a course of action, he finished his coffee and breakfast and told Remus and Sirius about his plans. Both men nodded and wished for him to have a good day before he apparated away for the day.

OO

Harry sat at his desk at lunchtime, where a sandwich lay in front of him half eaten and ignored. It wasn't that it was a horrible sandwich. Or that his work was getting him down, but rather he was trying to figure out where his relationship or pseudo-relationship with Bill stood.

In three days, he hadn't really said much to his partner. Other than a few sentences exchanged here and there, they had barely spoken. And the last time he checked, that wasn't really what relationships were about. Or was he expecting a bit too much?

He tried to see it as a rational adult, but he hadn't come to a viable conclusion at all. Sure, they shared a bed and talked to each other as often as their schedules allowed. But...

Harry frowned as he looked down at the half-drunk can of pop in front of him. Something was lacking. And he wasn't sure whether it was from him or from Bill himself.

_Maybe it always had been, but now that he's so immersed in work, it has become obvious. _ He tried to push the thought away where it had been mouldering in the recesses of his mind for some time, but it wouldn't obey him. Not this time.

"_It's because he's still missing Fleur. No one gets over losing someone that they loved that deeply so easily. He still needs time." _ He told himself as he reached over and took a swig of the pop.

"_I mean, Ginny was in that position for a brief time, but the pain of her loss was one of losing a sibling. I can't compare it. It's all relative to the person." _he argued.

"_True enough. But let's say that isn't it. Let's say that he's...perhaps developing feelings for someone else? Or maybe those feelings were already there and only now coming to the surface?"_

Harry put the can down and stared at his hands. That had been one thing that hadn't occurred to him. Not that he was that involved in his own life to not notice, but because he had looked into Bill's laughing face that night they had gotten together and believed that _this_ was the right thing to do. Despite him still occasionally reaching out in the night for a slender and more scarred body, or trying to not feel disappointment when his hand met corded muscle only marred by a few scars; he had thought that it was the right thing. That they would eventually build the foundation of some sort of happiness together.

But now, in the stark light of day, he really had to wonder if he had just been fooling himself. If Bill was also having those hidden second thoughts as well. He had felt something was different in the house when he was back from assignments. A circle that he was more or less excluded from; even though Bill and the others treated him exactly as before. The undercurrent was still there and it wasn't going away. In fact, the longer he was away, the more the feeling grew.

He clenched his hands and took a deep breath. He was probably just being paranoid. The case load was probably just got to him, being away from home so much. But once the case was solved, he was sure that things would smooth out. He would be home more often and things would go back to normal. And then he and Bill would laugh about what he thought about when he was in his office scrambling catch up on some paperwork and lunch.

"_Never thought that you were still in the business of denial. Especially how well it went back in the first years of the war,"_ he gritted his teeth at the voice and swore to ignore it.

"_I was fifteen! No one was telling me anything! I was still reeling from Cedric's death! What the hell was I supposed to do?" _Harry snarled at himself as he buried his head in his hands.

"_Something else than what you did. Learn your lesson already!" _he was trying to formulate a reply to the voice, but there was nothing he could really say. He was lying to himself. That was all too obvious now that he was away from the situation.

The life that they had in Godric's Hollow was like a house of cards. Flimsy and would more likely than not crash down around his ears if he didn't make an effort to fix things. Something he had to do fast.

OO

Harry sighed with relief when he got to the house. It had been a hell of a day. Not just with the ongoing case, but also because of the niggling doubts that had been plaguing him since his lunch-hour. Although he was going to have to do something that was probably going to be very unpleasant, he was glad to be home. At least things would be _clear_ for once in his life. There was nothing that was going to be hidden. Nothing half-said.

As he walked up the stairs to the front porch, he had to admit that he had never realized how much of his life had been spent hiding or telling half-truths. Only Ron and Hermione had that privilege. And now, Hermione was gone and Ron was busy living his own life. There was no way that he was going to pull Ron into his life and tell him how to go about living. He was going to go into it himself.

Once he has gotten all of that squared away in his mind, he takes a deep breath and unlocks the front door.

And is immediately engulfed in a set of arms that he honestly never thought were ever going to be wrapped around him ever again. Shocked and confused, he nestles into the wiry warmth on instinct before it is quickly pulled away. Startled, he looked up only to be pulled into another hug and swirled around. This time his impression was of mint and red hair tangled into his glasses.

Once he is let go, he stumbles for a bit and he hears soft laughter that fades once he gets his bearings. When that is achieved, he found himself facing Remus, Sirius and Bill. All of them with ecstatic expressions on their faces over something. His eyes darted around the room and rested on a stack of parchment and books that he swore weren't there when he had left for work three days prior. The sight of those materials drive all of the resolutions he had made out of his mind.

"Uhm..not so sound ungrateful or bewildered, but what's with the rowdy homecoming? Have I really been that AWOL around the house or something?"

Bill laughed at Harry's question and wrapped his arm around his waist. "We did it Harry! It's all there in black and white! We have done it!"

Harry frowned a bit as he tried to recall what had been achieved. He knew that Bill and Remus and Sirius had been busy...his eyes widened as he looked up at Bill and then at Remus and Sirius, who were both smiling widely.

"The curses? You found the cures for the curses?" Harry asked, his voice loud with excitement by the time he had finished the question. Bill nodded as he pushed a hank of bright red hair behind his ear.

"Pretty sure we did. We just have to give the roots of them to St. Mungo's and they'll do the rest," he explained to Harry. Or mostly to him, Harry thought as he once saw Bill giving Remus a quick look that he tried to convince himself was only a glance of comradeship. Especially when he didn't see it again.

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to nod in agreement. He really had wanted to hash things out before he lost his nerve, but that had been before he was greeted with the news of having Sirius back and whole again. There was no way that he was going to be an asshole and rain on everyone's parade.

It was going to have to wait. When Sirius got better, when things were okay again. Then maybe he was going to talk about it. And he hoped that it wasn't going to suck as much as he was afraid that it would.

_ Disclaimers- As always, JKR/Bloomsbury/WB et all own the characters. I just play with them. "Sejungere" is a latin word that means "To Sever" I may have gotten the tense wrong. I apologize. I went by my own knowledge of romance languages and a Latin dictionary. Anyways, I do apologize for the long delay and once again, hope you enjoy it. We're at the home-stretch now. Only two more chapters! Cheers and thanks!  
_


	11. Left and Leaving

_As always, not mine. I just play with the characters that belong to JKR/WB/Bloomsbury. _

_Chapter 10- Left and Leaving_

Remus waited outside of the examination room for the healers to look at Sirius for one last test before the counter-curse was cast. Once that was done, they would be able to determine an exact, or close to exact, prognosis. Although he understood that they would have to be completely thorough when examining Sirius, he still couldn't help but to feel a twinge of impatience at how long it was taking them. Even though it was the last in the series of tests that Sirius had had to endure, the waiting never got easier. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't a long wait. After all, he had spent time waiting to have a small shred of hope for Sirius to be healed. This waiting at least had a concrete solution at the end of it all. He could force himself to wait.

But telling himself to be patient and actually acting upon his own advice was much more difficult than he had anticipated. After the seventh irritated glance at the wall clock revealed that only ten minutes had passed since the last time he had looked, he decided that maybe taking a walk would be the best thing for his nerves.

Having once decided that was the best course of action, he moved down the corridor with long, purposeful strides. He couldn't have said exactly what he saw on that walk, only that it helped to take his mind off of things for a bit. He hadn't realized how much it had all been to take in: the long months of research, the final tracking of the specific roots of the curses, the wait as St. Mungo's developed a counter-curse that would be effective, the tests that Sirius had had to undergo and now the final testing of Sirius's condition. The fact that they were literally just one step away was almost too much to take in. He was dimly aware that it was sort of selfish for him to feel that way, since he wasn't the one waiting to be told whether he was going to have some semblance of normalcy again. After all, it hadn't been him that had had to endure the ignominy of being cared for like a child in the past year and a half. He could only imagine how galling it must have been for Sirius, who had once been so proud, to need help in doing everything but the most basic tasks.

"But that's going to be over soon," he muttered to himself as he turned around and went back to the examination rooms.

Remus saw that he had just gotten back in time, since the healers were on the verge of coming out of the room and were now conferring with Harry and Bill, who had just arrived at that moment.

"Harry! Bill!" Remus called out to them as he trotted the last few yards separating them. At the greeting, Harry and Bill looked up and smiled.

"Sorry for not being here. I just had to take a walk here," he told them once he was standing next to them and the healers.

"That's fine. We're all here, so we can hear what the healers have to say about Sirius," Bill brushed off the apologies and turned to the head of the healers and gave the woman a nod of consent.

"We have finished administering tests to Mr. Black and we are positive that most of the effects of the curses used on him can be reversed. The casting of the counter-curse will take a bit longer than anticipated due to several factors that weren't clear at a first glance," the healer explained carefully.

Remus and Harry frowned at the healer. "What do you exactly mean by 'factors that weren't clear at first glance'?"

The healer cleared her throat as she consulted the rolls of parchment that she held in her hands.

"The spinal injuries for one. We're still not sure whether we can heal them completely, since they were at first treated as if they had been normal injuries; rather than magical breaks. We are quite optimistic that we can restore most of the lost mobility."

Remus closed his eyes briefly at the words he had just heard in an effort to digest the meaning of them. He knew he had heard that it was likely that Sirius would regain most of his lost mobility. Although he had made his peace with Sirius' state, he still felt a clenching feeling of hope at the words. And immediately felt guilty for it, since it made him wonder whether he had just lied to himself in order to make the burden of caring for Sirius easier. Was he just lying to himself then?

He didn't have time to ponder those queries further since Harry had picked up the thread of conversation where he had let it fall and he was sure that he had missed something in the meantime.

"-to be so incredulous, but the healers said that there was no hope of him ever regaining movement or feeling below his chest. How did the situation change?" Harry asked in a shaky, emotion-laden voice.

"There have been more developments in potions and healing spells ever since we have gotten new staff here at the hospital. In half a year we have made quite a few strides in different areas and this was one of them," the healer paused and gave them a sympathetic glance,"Believe me when I say that we at St. Mungo's are quite grateful for these new methods and potions. Less and less cases are deemed hopeless. Now if you excuse me-"

"Can we see him now?" Remus interrupted, frantically, lest this was all just a figment of his imagination and it disappeared in once cruel second.

The healer looked puzzled for a moment before she smiled in apology and waved them towards Sirius' room. "Don't worry about the time. Someone will come to let you know when everything will begin."

Remus brushed aside the rest of the words and went into the room. He didn't give a damn about what was supposed to be happening next. He simply wanted to see Sirius and hold him and be close to him in ways that would change once everything was completed. He knew that things emotionally wise weren't going to change between them, but physically, there would be that same barrier that had been there before, a long time ago when Sirius was completely whole. He wouldn't miss the closeness, since it signalled the end of Sirius' last prison, but he needed to say good-bye to it lest he forget it was there.

OO

Harry watched Remus disappear into the room, but made no move to follow. His nerves had been rattled too strongly by the healer's words. So his godfather was going to be whole again. If only that had been the case when they had first brought him to the hospital...how would have things been different?

He pressed his lips tightly against each other and refused to answer the question. He knew how things would have been differently. He slid a small glance at Bill, who was watching him curiously, but made no move to do anything at that point._ Today was supposed to be a good day_, he had to keep reminding himself, despite not feeling that it was at all.

After that heady celebration three weeks ago, he had been sure that he had dreamed the distance between himself and Bill. They had left Sirius and Remus to their own devices and had gone to their own room to celebrate in a more private, but no less frantic fashion.

The rest of the time had been utterly wonderful, almost like it had been the first few months that they had started dating:quiet time spent together, private dinners and lots and lots of shagging.

After all that, Harry had told himself everything had been in his imagination. That things had just hit a rough patch and that it was all going to be fine. But the undercurrent of anxiety hadn't gone away. Especially not when he had seen Bill speaking with Remus and Sirius. It was nothing that could be detected by the casual passer-by, but something in the way that Bill tilted his head, or the way that Remus had stood a bit too closely, or even how Sirius had been looking at him from underneath those sooty eyelashes made alarm bells go off in Harry's mind.

Alarm bells that didn't seem to want to be silenced away, no matter how much he tried to do so. His inner voice was crowing about denial again, but he firmly told it to shut up. He wasn't going to act like a spoiled brat when so many things were on the line.

But then after? Was he going to have enough courage to finally broach the subject with all three of them? He certainly hoped so, since the uncertainty was killing him. He didn't understand what the hell it was that he really wanted from them. He had Bill and as far as he knew, Bill was happy being with him...but then part of him missed Remus horribly and sometimes, when he was too wound up to sleep, he would ask himself whether it had been so unreasonable for him to suggest that Sirius, Remus, and himself could all have a relationship. He had heard of it, read about it and was sure that was the best thing to do. Maybe if they had agreed on it, they wouldn't find themselves so badly at odds with each other.

"_The only one that is finding himself at odds though, is you,"_ his inner voice reminded him, making him cringe as he tried to shut it up. Without much success, it seemed.

"_Think about it. You were with Remus, you were unhappy. Then you ended up with Bill, and you're still wondering what the hell is wrong. Now you look at them and see that it's not them, but you. What the hell does that tell you then?" _the voice asked carefully.

Harry clenched his hands into fists and ignored the pain of his nails digging into his palms. What the hell was wrong with him? In fact, what the hell did he want? No matter who he went out with, he was feeling as if he was missing something. But he never could figure out what exactly that was. And now, without having anywhere to turn, Harry had to ask himself the questions he had been pushing further and further into the back of his mind.

"I want...I want.." he shut his eyes and thought about the times that he hadn't felt that there was something missing. Although he had to dig far and hard to find them, he finally did find them. And was surprised at the answer that he got. So surprised that he had to excuse himself and go out to think long and hard about it. Away from the sources of his confusion.

OOO

"Where's Harry at?" Remus asked Bill as he was once again relegated to the hallway to wait. This time, the healers had been smart and asked them (or rather ordered them, Bill thought) to simply go home. Remus had known, deep down, that they were right. Sirius had been horribly withdrawn and nervous and would have, if he possibly could have, pushed them all out of the doors to deal with the horrible case of nerves he was suffering from by himself.

Bill had been tense and Remus had been too busy trying to soothe anxieties that at first appeared to be Sirius'; but had been ultimately been revealed to be all his.

Bill had frowned at that. Come to think of it...where had Harry been for the last ten minutes? And worse yet, why hadn't he noticed that his partner had disappeared?

"I don't know, Remus. I think he might have slipped out for a bit when we went in to talk to Sirius," Bill supplied as he began to walk down the hall in vain hope of catching a glimpse of Harry.

"That's odd. Harry's not thoughtless enough to just up and leave like that," Remus commented as he ran a bit to catch up with Bill, who was striding down the hall purposely and rapidly.

"I know. I have to wonder if it's something else that we're missing that made him take off like that," Bill replied thoughtfully.

At those words, Remus frowned and stopped cold. Now that he thought of it, he was sure that there was something to Harry's behaviour. Something that had been there for a very long time, but he hadn't wanted to see. Not when he had been too busy trying to drown his guilt in Sirius' arms.

"Wait. Bill. Stop. Stop," he had called out to Bill, who had gone a few steps further before finally hearing Remus. He turned back and stopped in front of Remus, who was standing there expressionless.

"Let him go for now. I think he needs time to figure out what is bothering him by himself," he said, his words slow and measured as he spoke. Bill shook his head at that.  
"Are you sure that's wise at this time?" he asked Remus tightly.

Remus sighed and nodded. "No. It's not wise. But he needs to do it. We're not going to help him make his decision. Especially not at this time."

Bill's frown deepened at that. "Because we're too caught up with what's going to happen with Sirius?"

Remus smiled bleakly. "Partly that and partly that I think we both are the cause of his worries and anxiousness."

Bill's frown dropped as he turned to look at Remus. "You're kidding right? You don't suppose that he's thinking we've got something going on? Surely not!"

Remus laughed shortly. "Think about it, Bill. We've been working closely for how long? It's true that he's been away on assignments; but it would make sense. Haven't you noticed how aloof he's been?"

Bill shook his head. "I just chalked it up to him being tired," he bit his lip then, "I have to admit that I haven't really been noticing much outside of work. I was so caught up in the research that I must have let too many things fall by the wayside."

Remus nodded, his expression neutral as he did. "We all did. Sirius was the one that pointed it out...obliquely, but he had done it. I didn't connect it all until you said he was gone." He sighed tiredly.

Bill bit his lip and reached out to Remus. "Don't. Not right now. It's too much to take on at this time."

Remus laughed humourlessly. "When would it be a good time then? It's all my doing, more or less. If I had only said yes...before things broke between us..." he trailed off and ran his hands through his longish brown hair, making it stand up in crazy cow-licks all over his head, "I had to tell him...about Sirius and I. He suggested...we all should make an effort of it. Maybe he had you in mind...I don't know. But I refused. I thought he didn't know his own mind. That he was too young and would regret it all...I was a fool," he lamented softly before letting his hands drop to his sides.

Bill watched this action and despite better judgement, embraced the other man. He really didn't know how to respond to that sudden revelation. It was too sudden. Too shocking and he had to admit that despite his worldliness, it had knocked him for a loop to hear it.

To his surprise, Remus didn't pull away and instead leaned slightly into his arms. The feel of his weight against his chest made Bill cringe inwardly, since he felt that despite enjoying the moment; it wasn't the right time for that kind of intimacy. Maybe after Sirius was healed and the issue with Harry was resolved. Maybe then.

"What has Sirius said about the proposition?" he asked, despite not really wanting to know the answer. He knew that he was deflecting the topic at hand because he wasn't sure how to deal with it. It was true that he was harbouring feelings for Remus and possibly Sirius as well as the love he had for Harry, but to act on it? And to live in such an orthodox arrangement...could he possibly go through with it? He knew he couldn't answer. Not at that exact moment.

Remus shook his head. "I haven't told him. I'm not sure how he would react if it was brought up. I mean, he did have a small passing fancy over Harry's father; but to be romantically involved with his son? I honestly don't know how he would react to the suggestion. Especially not when I wasn't quite sure about his mental state. I was worried that the shock would be harmful to him."

Bill grimaced at that statement, knowing it was all too true. Sirius, despite having had made quite a remarkable recovery when it came to both his wrecked physical and mental health; was still not as healthy as someone who hadn't undergone the trials he had. He could understand why Remus would have opted to not do anything towards adding more unnecessary stresses to the other man's life. Even possibly making himself a sacrifice. And knowing Remus Lupin like he did, Bill was sure that had as much to do with his decision as his love for Sirius Black had.

"So what do we do now?" Remus asked as he pulled away from Bill. Although it was nice to have the other man's arms around him, he knew that it was more or less self-serving to do so. If circumstances permitted, they would hopefully have enough time to be like that.

"We go home. If Harry's there, we talk to him. If not, we wait for him and Sirius. Then we figure out what we're going to do next. All of us," Bill responded . Remus nodded at that and they both left St. Mungo's, each of them hoping it wasn't going to be a long wait.


	12. Light up, Light up

_Disclaimers- characters are the property of JKR/WB/Bloomsbury. This is purely for fun, not profit.  
_

_Chapter 12- Light up, Light up, as if you had no choice._

"Well?" was the first thing out of Harry's mouth as they met up with the healers in charge of Sirius' case. He normally wouldn't have been so abrupt and curt with them, but the fact that they had been kicked out of the room the minute that Sirius had actually recognized him and Remus wasn't sitting all too well with him. He was also testy that the bank had refused to let Bill extend his leave of absence and had forced him to go back to Egypt to take care of some tombs that novices hadn't been able to successfully open.

"We want to keep him at St. Mungo's for observation, but we are reasonably sure that the spell worked as it was intended," The healer explained, making Harry's scowl deepen further. He was about to open his mouth and ask why Sirius simply couldn't come home with them at that point, but was stopped by Remus squeezing his elbow painfully.

"We need to assess the extent of the atrophy and whether he will need to come back for physical therapy in addition to potions and spells to build up muscle. We also need to make sure that his vocal cords are working well and that he won't sustain further injury when he speaks," the healer explained smoothly, as if she hadn't noticed Harry and Remus' behaviour.

"How long would the observation take?" Remus asked her. The healer shrugged.

"We're estimating that it will be no more than two weeks. You are all of course, welcome to visit him as much as possible," the healer assured them hastily. Harry's scowl lightened somewhat, but Remus didn't let go of his arm. At least not yet.

"Is it possible that we could see him right now though?" Remus asked politely enough, but the tone didn't belie the sharpness of his amber eyes.

"Yes, provided that you don't tire him and that he himself doesn't strain his vocal cords. You saw the blood earlier. Although that can be healed, we'd rather not put Mr. Black through unnecessary pain," The healer replied, getting the hint, but also making sure that she was going to do her duty no matter how much intimidation they glowered at her.

Remus and Harry rolled their eyes at each other but nodded their consent before they walked past her. The action made her sniff before she too, got back to duties that had been neglected for far too long as she was concerned.

They paid her no heed, since all of their attention was focused on the figure in the bed. Sirius was still awake and was propped up into a sitting position by several pillows behind his back. Although he looked pale and fragile, the fact that his hair had been washed and tied back made him look a bit closer to the stunningly good looking man he had been before Azkaban.

Neither of them spoke as they came up to Sirius, they sat down on the bed, careful to not jostle him any more than they had to and reached out for his hands, which he gave without any hesitation at all.

"We're so glad to have you back with us," Remus murmured as he got closer to Sirius and buried his face into the thick black hair. Harry smiled slightly, but he wouldn't meet Sirius' gaze. Instead, he looked at Remus, who gave no indication that he had noticed Harry's distress. Sirius, for his part, didn't notice anything amiss between his partner and his godson.

Remus smiled and cupped Sirius' face with his free hand before he kissed him lightly on the temple.

"Bill's in Egypt. But he assured us that as soon as we sent word, he would be back here," Harry spoke up, his voice low and sure as he said the words. Sirius smiled at those news before he pulled his hand out of Harry's grasp and smoothed back Harry's messy hair away from his slightly pinched face.

"Good to hear. I need to thank him," Sirius replied in a quiet, whispery voice. Remus smiled at him before he stood up from the bed and went to the door.

"Speaking of Bill, someone should let him know that you are awake and speaking now. I'll send him an owl to tell him the news," Remus told them before he quickly exited the room.

Harry and Sirius stared at the closed door for what seemed like hours before Harry finally turned to look at his godfather.

"I'm not sure where to begin," Harry finally managed to get out, since he was both unnerved by the events of the past few weeks. And also by the unspoken resolutions that needed to be brought out into the open between himself and Sirius if they were to make the relationship between all of them work.

"Begin what?" Sirius asked. And winced. He put his hand to his throat to ease the pain before he reached over for the pitcher of ice water that was sitting on top of his night-stand.

"I'll get it for you," Harry said as he reached over and deftly poured the water into the accompanying glass and handed it to Sirius.

Once Sirius had drank down the water, he looked at Harry expectantly, his eyes sharp and full of questions as he did.

Harry in part, simply looked down at his lap. He knew that the stalling was over and he wasn't going to be a big enough of a jerk to force Sirius to speak when he was already experiencing pain from simply speaking three sentences.

"Remus mentioned something to me and Bill when you were comatose," Harry began, figuring that it would be better if he got to the point rather than drawing out what could potentially be an uncomfortable and possibly even humiliating conversation between them.

Sirius nodded, waiting for him to go on. Harry took a deep breath and plunged in.

"He thought that we all should be in a relationship. Not just split up between the four of us. But all of us together," he finished quietly, his eyes still on Sirius face. Although it was hard to not look away from him to see what he thought about the proposition, he had to know. He'd rather have Sirius tell him outright that it wasn't going to happen. It would give him some leeway at least, to find another place.

Sirius' eyes widened at the proposition, but apart from that, there was no indication of how he was possibly feeling at that moment.

They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime to Harry. It felt almost as if time had stayed still for them. Although he wanted to break the stalemate that was between them, he knew that it wasn't up to him to break the silence. He had thrown the gauntlet, so he had to wait until Sirius made the next move.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but could only get the suggestion of a sound out before he winced in pain. He took another sip of water before he tried to speak again.

"Did you agree?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"I wanted to ask you before anything was decided. I know how much you cared for my father and how much it meant to you when he asked you to be my godfather. I didn't want to say yes until I knew exactly where you stood," Harry bit his lip and looked down at his hands.

"I don't want to force you into something that's going to feel wrong or awkward. I want for all of us to be happy together. But if it can't be done, I-" Harry stopped abruptly when he saw Sirius's hand on top of his. Startled, he looked up.

Sirius was looking at him. But it wasn't with either sadness or disgust as he had feared. Rather, it was a look of tenderness. A look of tenderness that he had only seen exchanged between him and Remus when he thought that no one was watching. He gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze and would have said more in regards to that when a healer came in with a tray on which a single goblet of potion stood.

Although the sight of the healer was frustrating, Harry had no choice but to wait until she had given Sirius the potion (after admonishing him about abusing his still raw vocal cords, to which Sirius looked both chagrined and sheepish about) before he broached the subject again.

Once she was gone, he steeled himself to bring it up again, but when he had finally mustered enough courage to bring it up again, he saw that Sirius had fallen asleep.

He shook his head at the sight of Sirius in deep sleep and simply arranged the blankets around the inert form. Harry had just finished his task when Remus entered the room.

"Did you speak with him?" he asked Harry as he looked down at Sirius. Harry nodded his reply.

"And?" Remus queried as he swept a few errant strands away from Sirius' pale forehead.

"He agreed." Harry replied softly while Remus only nodded, his eyes fixed on Sirius' face, which was smooth and devoid of the fine lines and hollows that it held normally.

"I guess it begins now then," Remus noted softly as he finally looked up to Harry, who simply nodded.

-O-O-

"It's good to be finally alone," Sirius sighed blissfully as he settled in between soft flannel sheets that smelled of musk, forest, cloves and a light touch of cinnamon.

Remus only raised an eyebrow at that as he watched Sirius crawl into bed by himself. Although the movements were slow and clumsy, Remus knew better than to offer assistance. Especially not when he knew how hard Sirius had worked at gaining some measure of independence.

It had been hard going, those months full of physical and speech therapy that had filled Sirius' life after the observation period had been over. Many days, Sirius had been left in a foul temper due to the frustrations his weakness caused him. There were times when Remus, Bill and Harry were afraid that he was was going to fall into a deep depression due to his impatience.

Luckily, he managed to persevere and had gained a measure of autonomy through his efforts.

"It's good to have you alone," Remus replied as he smoothed the sheets over Sirius' body. Once the small task was done, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Sirius' cheek and sat down at the foot of the bed.

Sirius had finally come back home for good and that had meant a large celebration, courtesy of the Weaselys, the now defunct Order and others that had come to wish Sirius their sincere congratulations on finally beating the disability that they were sure as going to be a permanent fixutre of his life.

Although Bill, Remus and Harry had all been a tad impatient with the well-wishers that seemed to never end, Sirius himself had no objections to them coming and going.

Yes, it was a bit irritating, but he relished the attention that didn't have the twinge of pity that had been all too present to him not even a year ago. Yes, it could be that he was vain, but it had been all too long that he had had anything to be vain about. After twelve years of captivity, two years of being on the run, several years of physical anguish, he figured that he was entitled to enjoy the positive attention that he was getting.

Harry, Remus and Bill took it all in stride and joined in the celebrations with much gusto, but despite Sirius' willingness, they could see that his body simply wasn't up to it, they quietly began herding the party-goers out of the house while Remus had appointed himself to taking Sirius off to a much needed rest.

Sirius nodded as he lay back against the pillows that were propping him up in a sitting position.

"It'll be even better when I can be up for most of the time, rather than lounging about like a lazy lord," Sirius retorted, making Remus snort.

"Believe me when I say there will be time enough for that to happen, Padfoot," he replied as he traced the pattern of the bedspread with his index finger.

Sirius grinned wryly. "I know. I know it all too well that I'm being impatient at the moment." He shook his head and looked down at the blankets covering his no longer atrophied legs.

"It's just that it feels so close now, being able to walk on my own, not being dependent on someone to do practically everything for me," he closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.

"I hope that isn't making me sound even more childish than I usually am," he noted, opening his eyes just a small crack to look at Remus, who was shaking his head.

"No. Not any more than usual," Remus replied as he reached for Sirius' hand, which had fallen on the bed. Sirius grinned at the other man and squeezed his hand.

"What would I have done without any of you?" he murmured as he pulled Remus closer, his eyes heavy-lidded as he did so.

"Waste away, I suppose, "Remus murmured in reply as he moved towards Sirius, who had narrowed the distance between them and was now ghosting his lips over Remus' own.

"Exactly," Sirius whispered before he pressed his mouth on Remus and gave him the kiss that both of them had been aching for.

Their mouths moved out of their own wills, a perfect sync of lips, tongues and teeth There were no awkward pauses nor aburpt starts and stops. The only time that they faltered was when they heard footsteps coming into the bedroom.

Regretfully, Remus pulled away only to find Harry and Bill standing in the doorway, their eyes dark and hooded as they stared at him and Sirius.

None of them spoke, despite the tension that was quite thick at that moment. They might have stood there for years, none of them willing to articulate or explain why things had come to such a standstill between all of them if it hadn't been for Sirius.

"Come in. There's no point in waiting any longer."

_Notes- Dreadfully sorry for the long wait between chapters. Life has been very eventful in the time that I started this story. I hope that after everything, I am back on track and hopefully will finish it off sooner rather than later._


	13. C'mon People We're Making It Now!

Chapter 12-C'mon People, We're making it now!

_Disclaimer-Harry Potter is the property of JKR, WB and Bloomsbury. Not making profit, this is purely for entertainment. _

"_Come on, there's no point in waiting any longer." _

Sirius' words seemed to hang heavy in the air between all of the men. Although it was a welcome and clear invitation, neither Bill nor Harry made a move towards the bed. It was the deciding moment; and despite the willingness that had been decided on earlier, neither of them was willing to _physically _take the last metaphorical step.

It wasn't until Remus sighed in annoyance and walked over to Bill and Harry that things got started. Although he felt as if he was still Harry's teacher and Bill's mentor in the order, he wasn't going to delay something that should have taken place already. It was true that he didn't want to push and wreck the fragile truce that they had established, but if anything was going to happen, it needed to be done now.

"We've got all the time in the world, but it doesn't mean that we should waste it," Remus told them as he led towards Sirius' bed. Once all three of them had sat down, the anticipation in the air was snapped by Sirius making the first move.

Bill was sure that Sirius would have gone for Remus, since they had been getting started when he and Harry showed up. He was pleasantly surprised when he found himself being the recipient of a crushing embrace followed by an equally ferocious kiss. It was such a fierce kiss that Bill found himself breathless once it was done. He was simply stunned by how Sirius moved his lips, tongue and teeth in a carefully controlled, yet passionate manner that left little doubt that the recipient was in for a great time.

Instinctively, Bill had followed suit, his hand going up and tangling itself into Sirius' hair. The locks felt smooth and heavy as he wound them around his fingers, using it as a lead to press Sirius into deepening his kisses. He heard dim noises behind him, but he didn't register them. His universe at that moment was Sirius. How his mouth tasted (sweet, warm and wet) how his body felt as it was pressed up against him (taut and quivering with barely suppressed excitement) and how much he ached to feel that velvety length in his hands. Nothing else around him mattered.

He nearly choked though, when he felt Sirius' hands snaking into the open fly of his track-suit bottoms. He gasped as the cool hand found its way inside his boxers and started circling and stroking the half-hard flesh. The gasps kept coming though, as Sirius' nimble fingers worked their magic on his cock until it was harder than a lead pipe and ready for more action.

He wanted to press on ahead, but he also knew that he didn't want to leave his partner unsatisfied. Although his brain cells have done a great job of scattering into the atmosphere, he managed enough of a lucid thought to also return the favour.

His hands weren't as clever and his delivery wasn't as well choreographed as Sirius' own moves. But he knew what to do with a cock in his hands. Without preamble, he's circled the turgid column of flesh and was doing what he knew he liked being done to him. This time, it was Sirius' turn to gasp against Bill's mouth as he was getting pleasure from the simple act of getting touched, rather than from using old memories or crossing the wires as he had done in the past. This was real and it was happening and it was all he could do to prevent himself from jumping Bill.

He would have claimed Bill right then and there if it hadn't been for his head being pulled away from Bill's and his mouth being claimed by another hungry, slick and wet mouth that he had never tasted before. He didn't open his eyes. Instead, he sank into the sensations assaulting his senses, enjoying the velvet softness of the lips, the sweet taste of the wet flesh and the way it was making his brain fizzle out completely. A small, calloused hand caressed his face and the fresh scent of young male rose heavily into the room, now making it obvious Harry was the aggressor.

Harry moaned into the kiss as he got closer to a climax, what with the way that Remus was caressing his cock, his fingers feather light with the occasional scratch of what was a casually careless move on his part. Yet Harry knew that Remus was as deliberate in his love-making as he was with everything else. He was also aching to touch Remus, but the werewolf wasn't having any of it. He always preferred to be the one to give full pleasure to his partner first before getting his own. It was simply his way, but Harry had always felt quite selfish when they made love like that.

Usually, that would dampen his enjoyment of the moment, but he wouldn't let his own petty annoyances destroy what they had been working for. Although it felt like a lifetime since the war and Sirius' homecoming, Harry was relieved that there had been that much of a fallow period if this was going to be the reward that all of them were going to be involved in. He also suspected that he had always been annoyed with Remus because he hadn't been able to focus on anything other than his own body and sometimes, all he wanted was to _flee_ his own body and he usually sought this through sex. But only when he was also giving the pleasure was he able to get that complete metaphysical release that the guilt-laden orgasm couldn't bring him. It was only then that he would lose himself completely and come to himself feeling satisfaction that he had managed to both please someone and lose himself so completely within them as well.

This time though, he was losing himself in the salty taste of Sirius' mouth and the feel of those lips working against his mouth in loose, fast sweeping moves that were making him feel like he was sloughing his own skin as his soul was being loosened from its moorings. Remus' hands were almost a painful pleasure as they worked him over and over, his rhythm almost, but not quite matching the movement of Sirius' mouth on his. He was sure that he was going to explode, like a massive earthquake or volcano when Sirius pulled away and let out a hoarse cry of his own.

Harry blinked, but had no time to process this because he was literary blinded when his own orgasm came in bolts of gold and silver streaked lighting against his closed eyelids. He thought he heard himself shout, but he wasn't sure. Not that it mattered, since he found himself swept up in Sirius's arms and on his lap. Sirius only smiled, a slow, sleepy and seductive smile as his hands wandered from Harry's shoulders to his hip.

Harry inhaled sharply and looked away for a moment. And nearly screeched in shock as he saw Bill and Remus frantically, almost furiously and even violently, making love. Their movements were so savage and passionate and feral at the same time that it was almost painful for him to watch. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat as he took in the beauty of those rocking bodies. The way they undulated, stretched and flowed against each other was amazing. He almost felt left out except when they sped up and resisted, the flesh almost stretching to a breaking limit when both men started to snarl at each other. Nails scored flesh and teeth pierced earlobes. Snarls were mixed with the moans of pleasure and Harry was thankful that he was with Sirius, since he knew he wouldn't be able to take both the pleasure and the pain both were offering without him breaking.

Sirius' teeth at his earlobe made those thoughts leave his head and focus on what was going to happen with him now. He hated to admit it, but he was nervous about the whole deal. Sure, he wasn't a blushing virgin, but being with his godfather was enough to make him nervous. It must have shown in his demeanour someway, because Sirius slowed down and put his hand on the small of his back as if to reassure him.

Part of him was annoyed at the gesture and part of him was touched that his godfather had even bothered to make it. He leaned back into the touch just enough to show Sirius that he was fine with how things were progressing and was eager to continue to the conclusion. He moved forward after that little interlude and claimed Sirius lips with his own again. This time, it wasn't the frenetic, almost frantic exploration that he had indulged in before. This time, he moved at an almost leisurely pace, tasting, licking, touching every single space of flesh that he could reach.

He knew that it was working when Sirius groaned and pulled him closer to him. Harry felt the signs of Sirius' excitement, but he didn't stop moving until Sirius, breathing came in starts and stops. He was so engrossed in his task that he wasn't fully aware of Sirius being inside him until his godfather started rocking forwards and backwards, pushing deeper and deeper inside of him.

At this, Harry pulled away from Sirius, his lips parted as he looked at his godfather, who was looking back at him with a cleverly smug expression on his face. Harry would have framed a reply if it hadn't been for that exact moment that his godfather had hit that particular spot and made his world go blank as pleasure overrode annoyance. Pleasure that blanked out everything else for the rest of the day and the following night as well.

0-0-0-

It was the smell of fresh coffee that woke him up from his unconsciousness the next morning. He didn't think he could move at all, since he felt so utterly boneless, sated and at peace with everything and everyone in the world, something that he hadn't felt in...well...forever. Even when the war was over, he always felt that the world was going to cave in on his head at any minute. But this time...all he wanted to do was get up and get some coffee, say good morning to the three people that he loved the most in the world and enjoy his day.

He didn't leave the bed right away. Instead, he lay there, relishing the new happy feeling, revelling into it before he finally slid out of bed and pulled on his discarded track bottoms and pulled them on slowly, wincing slightly at a the dull pain in his backside that was the reminder of a fantastically magical and wholly perfect night.

Once he was dressed, he headed to the kitchen where as expected; there was a cup of coffee waiting for him. He picked it up and drank the liquid down slowly and looked around the kitchen, drinking in the sight of Bill making pancakes, Remus cutting up fruit and Sirius setting the table.

All was finally fucken well.

_End Notes- I am so sorry that it actually took me this long to finish this story. Basically, in the three years that I started this story, I moved from Seoul, to Northern Quebec to Edmonton, back to Northern Quebec and now to Montreal, had numerous family, career and personal issues to deal with on top of my muse waving good-bye and taking off for a very long time. I really am thankful to all that still are reading and reviewed and the like. Honestly, thank you for your patience. Cheers and goodnight._


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